The Bishop, The Knight, and The Queen
by GL Jarmin
Summary: Nothing can stop Agent William Bishop from achieving his goal: to bring back the dead. Casey Jones gets a blast from the past. And the Turtles, now with their long-lost sister Karai finally on their team, are once again called upon to save the world. 2012verse and featuring an AU version of Agent Bishop. Crosses over with the popular anime and manga franchise Read Or Die.
1. The End of the British Library

The Bishop, the Knight, and the Queen

Chapter One: The End of the British Library

"The Gentleman is _dead_."

Special Agent William Bishop or "The Executioner" sat at his desk, continuing to type as if he'd heard nothing. He was so close. His mess of an office didn't matter. His graying lab coat didn't matter. The fact that he hadn't eaten in days didn't matter. His assistant's words didn't matter, he needed to keep working, he needed to find a cure.

A cure for death…

"Did you hear me, William?" she repeated. "Our _leader_ is dead. And before long, this organization will die _with_ him."

Bishop hadn't stopped.

It was not long ago that their agency's leader, the great Mr. Gentleman-the very personification of the British Empire-was showing signs of aging. His health deteriorated, and his life hung in a precarious balance. A cure had to be found.

It simply _had_ to be.

"It'll be pointless," she continued, the concern in her voice almost painful. "They've dissolved the Library, every single branch will be shut down soon. Everything we once were will fade into nothingness."

Her gaze wandered through the lab. Her beautiful, memory-endowed lab. Was it truly meant to end this way? So soon? So tragically?

"William, come with me…Please…I still care what happens to you, don't you understand that?"

He shot her a venomous glare before returning to his work. "What I'd _like to_ understand is why you seem so chuffed about this," he growled, never breaking his concentration.

She retaliated with an equally poisonous glare. "I'm not. This Library has been everything to me. It's my _home_…but it can't be anymore...And you will watch your tone with me, William. You know what I've sacrificed for you."

"Yes, I know, you hardly ever shut your mouth about it! If you've nothing useful to contribute other than that pointless bag of flesh in your womb, _get out_."

She could not believe what she was hearing. It was like he'd taken an icicle to her heart. Had he really just said that? In that gentle, deep, and comforting voice she once loved so much?

"What's happened to you? You're not the William I remember…" _What's happened to my Will?_ She dared to reach out to him and place a hand on his shoulder. "William-"

"Get out, traitor," Bishop growled. The obvious warning in his tone was not lost on her.

Her arms dropped down to her sides, her spirit broken. The tears she'd held back now streamed shamelessly down her tawny cheeks. Wordlessly and without looking back, she turned on her heels and left, never again to return to the lab she once called home.

"I will finish this project," he seethed as the door to his lab closed shut. "…no matter what."

No matter what...


	2. The Suitcase

Chapter Two: The Suitcase

Years Later….

"What _I_ wanted to be?" Splinted asked.

"Yeah," Michelangelo added. "Like what did you wanna be when you grew up?"

The Hamato family was sat down at dinner, a lovely dinner of take-out Persian food. The restaurant was suggested by April and Karai and although the turtles were initially put off by the strong smell, one bite of the lamb stew was enough to convince them (not to mention a little "coercing" from their big sisters). As per usual, Splinter sat at the head of the table, Leonardo and Raphael at either side followed by Donatello, Karai, and Michelangelo, who was already on his third helping of kebabs and pilaf.

Splinter chewed thoughtfully on his kebabs as his children waited for an answer. He had always known he would be a ninjutsu master, but he had a feeling his son would want a more substantial answer. He gestured at his children. "I suppose I wanted to be this: a respectable man with a good family…or a comedian."

His children just about spat out their meals.

"It is true," Splinter insisted. "One simply needs a good harisen. Now the question falls on you, Michelangelo."

"What I want is to be a good friend," he said confidently.

"Lame," Raphael jeered.

"What?" Mikey whined.

Splinter shot his red-banded son a stern look. "I think it is a noble goal to attain."

"Yeah," Leo agreed. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's kinda vague," Donnie added.

Mikey scratched the back of his head. "Smaller words, Donnie. _Smaller_ words."

"How have you not heard that word before?" Donnie countered.

"Back to the subject," Karai insisted. "Just what do you mean by 'lame', Raph."

"Okay," Raph began, a mischievous twinkle budding in his eye, "Let's say this happens: it's a dark and stormy night-just like tonight. And you're at home-let's say-reading a comic book or sat down at dinner. Suddenly, there's this frantic knocking at the entrance. You go over there and you see it's a good friend of yours. You let him in and he's got this crazy look in his eye, like he just saw a ghost. He's all beat up and he's holding a club in one hand…and in his other hand is a suitcase with something red dripping out of it."

"What's _inside_ the suitcase?" Mikey asked anxiously.

"Here's where that goal of yours is tested," Raph answered. "Inside the suitcase…is a dead body. Your friend just committed a murder."

There was a chorus of disgusted sounds and comments from their other siblings.

Splinter cleared his throat, silencing everyone in the room. "This is hardly good table conversation."

Raphael shrugged. "Sorry, Sensei. But seriously, Mikey. Your friend just did something _horrifyingly_ bad. What would you do? Would you side with him, or would you rat him out to the cops? Just how far would you go for a friend?"

"Umm," Mikey began.

"Knock knock!" came from the lair's entrance. They knew that voice.

"It's Casey," said Raph. He stared at the curtain that separated the kitchen from the rest of the lair. "Wonder what he wants…Mikey, go find out."

"Why I gotta do it?"

"We'll put it to a vote," Karai suggested.

"Mikey," everyone but Splinter chorused.

With an audible "ah, man" Mikey stood up disappeared behind the curtain.

Raph nudged Karai's shoulder. "You're getting' good at this."

As quickly as he left, Mikey returned, visibly pale and panting as though the breath had been shocked out of him. He pushed his shell up to the curtain as if her were trying to keep someone out.

"What is wrong?" Splinter asked.

"C-C-Casey," he gasped, "he's got a _suitcase_ with him!"

"A suitcase?" Karai echoed, nearly spitting out her dinner.

"A suitcase!"

"Oh man!" came Casey's panicked and trembling voice.

The Hamato family couldn't have rushed out of the kitchen fast enough, Mikey being the last to follow suit. Sure enough, there was the suitcase in question, sitting idly in the middle of the den. Leaning over it and panting was a very distraught-looking Casey Jones. His dark hair was plastered onto his face with sweat and his clothes were tattered, evidence of him hauling the heavy suitcase through the sewers.

"Oh, man," Casey choked. "I really did it now, guys! I really did it now!" His eyes held a look of pure and utter terror.

Mikey pushed Raph forward, earning himself a glare. But Raph knew pummeling his youngest brother could wait. "Casey," the red-banded turtle asked shakily, "what happened?"

The human boy buried his face in his hands. "What've I done?" he gasped. "How did I get myself into this mess?"

"We'll help you, Casey…just…just tell us what's in the suitcase first."

Casey's immediate response was to frantically shake his head, a crazed look in his eye. "Oh, you don't want that, Raph." He threw himself onto the suitcase, hugging it for dear life.

"Yes we do," the red-banded turtle insisted. "Just tell us and we'll help you. Whatever it is."

After what seemed like eternity, Casey took a deep breath and straightened himself. He spoke with an ominous tone. "Okay…but you asked for it." He knelt down and began to undo the clasps.

Everyone held their breath. Leo took a tentative step back as did Karai and Donnie. Raph gave an audible gulp. Mikey was whimpering nervously from behind their father, who was rooted boldly in place. An exchange of blows with their enemies seemed much less nerve-wracking than this. Finally, Casey flipped the lid off of his suitcase

…of random junk.

"What the hey?" Mikey asked.

"I ran away from home!" Casey announced exultantly. He was smiling as if the last 90 stressful seconds never happened.

"Ran away?" Donnie asked.

"Yup! My old man and I had a little disagreement. Turned into this huge fight and I _may've_ stormed out."

Leo gestured at the suitcase questioningly. "If you stormed out, why do you have a suitcase?"

"Oh, I always keep this in my car." He reached down and produced a flat green box, holding it up proudly. "It's got my earthquake kit in it."

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Is that a Cluedo game with a Rice Crispies treat taped to it?"

Casey hesitated. "Maybe." He wasted no time stuffing the makeshift "kit" back into his suitcase and out of sight. Then he straightened up and cleared his throat. "So, whaddya say? Could I stay here? Just for a couple days?

Mikey shrugged. "It's not up to us, dude."

Everyone looked expectantly at Master Splinter. The rat considered it for a quick moment. "I will allow it, Casey, but you must speak with your father eventually. I am sure he is worried."

"Aw, thanks, Rat-Dud-er-Splinter."

"What were you guys fighting about, anyway?" Leo asked.

"I'd-" Casey hesitated, an uncharacteristic pain in his eyes. He turned his face away. "I'd rather…talk to Splinter about it."

The siblings exchanged surprised looks. Casey was never one to act so serious, especially in front of them. Splinter nodded and his children complied. They were halfway to the kitchen when Karai realized something.

"Hey," she began, "wasn't there just _one_ kebab left?"

For a fraction of a second, the Hamato siblings stopped to stare at each other.

And then the race was on!

The curtain flapped closed and there was an audible rustling. "Got it!" sounded a triumphant Donatello. It was followed by a chorus of disappointed "Aaaaww!"s.

Splinter gestured to the couch and Casey took the hint. "Tell me what is bothering you, my son."

Again, Casey hesitated. "My dad wants me to go to college," he finally said.

Splinter stayed silent and waited for him to continue.

"And I don't see the point! Nobody takes degrees seriously anymore. I don't even need one to be a pro hockey player. And everyone knows that college is a waste o' time and money. I mean, would you want your kids to go to college, Splinter?" He looked expectantly at the rat inquestion, but the answer never came. Eventually it dawned on Casey and he mentally kicked himself. "Oh…Sorry."

"No." The rat shook his head, smiling broadly. "I am happy that my sons have a friend whom is able to see past our appearances." His smile dissipated. "Sadly, that question is a luxury far from being available to us."

"But if it wasn't?"

Splinter pondered it. "I would want only for them to be happy. I suppose that depends on my sons' individual interests, though."

Casey sighed heavily. "It just really ticks me off! How can he expect me to just up and leave home? Who's gonna take care of my sister? Who's gonna take care of my _dad_? He can't even _walk_ for cripes' sakes!"

The rat raised an eyebrow.

Then it registered with Casey. "Oh yeah-I never told you guys, huh? My dad's got a bad heart. A couple years ago, he had an episode and fell down a flight of stairs. He hasn't been walking right since."

Splinter's ears gave a noticeable droop. He wished such a decent young man did not have to bear such a burden. Was this the reason for his vigilantism? Was it simply a way to vent his frustrations? He put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "I am sorry to hear that, but thank you for sharing this with me, Casey. I know it must have been difficult."

"Not as difficult as right now." With a heavy sigh, he slumped down until his face met his knees. "What am I gonna do? I don't wanna stay mad at my dad."

Splinter smiled in spite of himself. He couldn't recall the last time he heard something so mature leave the young Jones' mouth. The Casey before him had come a long way…and he knew it was partly because of the friendship of his sons. He reached over and re-placed his hand on Casey's shoulder. The boy sat up and looked at him gloomily but eagerly.

"I can offer only a father's viewpoint of this. And a father wants nothing more than what is best for his children. Even at the cost of his own wellbeing. The both of you may want different things, but that is no reason for your relationship to suffer. When you feel the time is right, go and speak with him. Respectfully and with a calm heart, of course."

"But what if we still can't work it out?"

"Then you must make a decision. But whatever it may be, know that you are always welcome here. We think of you as family as well, Casey."

Casey felt his heart lighten. "Thanks, Splinter. I just dunno _how_ to thank you."

"You could give me something off of your earthquake kit."

Smiling broadly, he went over to his suitcase and produced the Rice Crispy treat. He tossed it over to Splinter, who caught it expertly and began to unwrap it.

"The couch is yours. Good night, Casey."

"G'nite, Splinter."


	3. Marie

Chapter Three: Marie

Three days had passed since Casey came to live with the Hamato family. Mornings and afternoons had been spent at school while during the night there were movie marathons and chores. Every day, Casey thought to call his father, but the moment he picked up the phone, the same days-old anger would rear its ugly head. He just couldn't seem to find the right state of mind.

This particular day, though, seemed unusual. Master Splinter felt it too as he saw the young Jones off to school in the morning. It had become a regular thing that Casey took some secret delight in; his own father would sleep until almost noon. Casey practically never saw him in the mornings, let alone receive a daily "Have fun at school!"

Casey didn't know if it was the air or the bologna and whipped cream pizza Mikey made for breakfast, but today seemed different.

"Be careful today, Casey," Splinter told him as Casey crossed the turnstile. "For something seems off."

_Yeah, Splinter. That's exactly what a kid wants to hear first thing in the morning._

School went by well, more or less, but the fact that hockey practice was cancelled did not help Casey's mood. The day was half-over when Casey realized how much he missed having a certain red-headed presence in his life. He could hardly wait for her college-viewing trip to Florida to end. Finally, as the sky began to show the slightest tint of orange, the last class was over and the journey home could begin.

No more than two minutes out of the school property, Casey sensed a presence close by. He guessed that his ninja friends' sixth sense must have rubbed off on him. Never breaking stride, he snuck a quick peak over his shoulder. He didn't get a good look, but made out a shape wearing a long coat; they couldn't have been more than fifteen paces behind.

He decided to test the waters and made a left at the next street. The person still followed. Casey made a right, and they followed. He made another left; still they were on his tail.

_Yup_, he thought. _They're following me, alright…_

He also noticed how they had begun to pick up the pace. Casey responded by sprinting. Hard.

He must have gone far because the part of town he was in had almost no people around. Perfect.

He ducked into a deserted alley and crouched behind the dumpster. Plunking down his gym bag, he retrieved his hockey sticks and mask. He almost leapt out of his skin as a large three-fingered hand touched his shoulder. He spun round.

It was Leo and Raph.

"Oh it's just you," Casey relaxed somewhat. "What're you guys doin' here?"

"We were gonna get take-out at Murakami's," Leo answered. "Why? Need help stopping a bank-robbery?"

"Someone's following me," he whispered.

Leo immediately tensed. "Who? You think it's the Purple Dragons?"

"I don't know, but they've been on my tail since I got outta school. I think there's just one of 'em, though."

"Then we trap 'em," Raph said determinedly, punching his open fist for emphasis. "See how _they_ like being the mouse."

Casey smiled broadly, retrieving the hockey stick from his bag. "Whaddya think I'm doing, dude? Nobody trolls Casey Jones!"

"Yeah, except for April, maybe," Raph added.

"Dude!"

Leo took control of the conversation. "Get into position, Raph."

The red-banded turtle rolled his eyes. "Do you _really_ need to tell me that?"

"Just-"

"Guys!" Casey interjected, sensing another pointless argument coming.

The two turtles jumped out of sight and into the shadows. Casey remained in plain sight to keep his pursuer focused on him, giving Leo and Raph the element of surprise. He donned his hockey mask and twirled his sticks with gusto.

"Ok, punk," he said. "Casey's got the drumsticks. Now…who wants to be the drums?"

"Casey Marie Jones!" came a shrill female voice from around the corner.

The human boy paled, nearly dropping his hockey sticks. "No cheezing-way," Casey gasped. "Her? HER?"

Leo poked his head out from behind the dumpster. "Wait, you _know_ her?"

Raph was out of sight, balanced on a fire escape ladder. "Your middle name is 'Marie'?" he scoffed.

Their words seemed lost on Casey as the boy wasted no time in hiding his mask and hockey sticks. "Shut up and hide!"

"Casey!" the voice called again.

He spun round to face her. His friends disappeared from sight the second she rounded the corner.

"Paige?" Casey gasped. "I-I didn't recognize you. I thought you were in England or somethin'."

She was an aged exotic beauty with tanned skin, large brown eyes, and dark blonde hair that stretched to her lower back, practically reminiscent of a blonde and middle-aged Bollywood siren. She was wearing a form-fitting white dress and a large beige coat, black shoes swathing her petite feet. None of these things diminished her utterly infuriated expression.

"Don't try and change the subject, young man," she reprimanded in a crisp Manchester accent. "Do I even need to tell you that your family's worried sick or are you just going to conveniently forget that fact?"

"Wha-? Don't tell me you crossed the pond just for that."

For a split second, she seemed to hesitate. "Never you mind," she insisted. "When are you coming home?"

"When pigs fly," he spat, immediately regretting his choice of words. He'd seen her be mad…and he didn't feel like seeing it right now. "I mean-when I'm ready."

"And when will that be?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Look, I'll go back and talk to dad when I'm ready… Just not now…Okay?"

She looked into those apprehensive puppy-dog eyes. It was as if he were a six-year-old again, crying over a petty problem. But in those uneasy eyes was the slightest twinkle of pride and confidence, just enough to remind her how much she treasured that cheeky little spirit. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. How could she say no to that? "Alright."

They exchanged understanding looks before rushing forward to take the other in their arms. Casey momentarily lost himself in her warm and mothering embrace and Paige fondly stroked the back of her boy's head.

"Despite the circumstances, it's wonderful to see you again," she said as they pulled away. She reached out a gentle hand and caressed his cheek. "How you've grown. Your look just like your mum."

"Thanks, Paige…I see you let your hair grow out." No wonder he hadn't recognized her. The Paige of his childhood always wore her hair short. She also dyed it black to look "More Indian" as she insisted. He never understood why, though; she had always been beautiful regardless.

Paige brushed one long golden tress over her shoulder. "Yes, I got tired of all the upkeep. I'm not getting any younger, after all."

"Well, it actually makes ya look younger."

Paige smiled warmly. Her smile fell as she remembered her young charge's situation. "Do you at least have a place to stay?" she asked, genuine concern in her gentle tone.

"O'course! I got these awesome friends and they were nice enough to let me stay with 'em."

Paige scoffed. "Well, _when_ you overstay your welcome, I've a new apartment in Williamsburg. Come stay with me."

"Sure, Paige."

"It'll be just like old times. Except I know you're much too old now for that special hot chocolate and cream scones."

"Hey now, I never said _that_."

Leo and Raph stayed crouched in the shadows, watching the scene unfold. They were trapped in this weird mix of confusion and surprise. Was this the same Casey? Why was he being so polite, not to mention modest? Who was this woman to make him act this way? Finally, the wondered if they should be watching what seemed to be such a private and personal moment for one of their friends.

Oh well.

After a while, Casey and the woman said their goodbyes and parted. The brothers waited until she was fully down the block before coming into view.

Casey felt instead of heard his friends emerge from their hiding places. "I see you guys are done eavesdropping," he said.

"Who was that?" Raph half-demanded.

Casey hesitated before answering, a noticeable blush creeping on his face. "No one of consequence. See ya at the lair."

Leo grabbed the back of his collar. "Hold on there, cowboy."

Raphael smirked. "Is it just me or did you turn into a little girl when you were talking to her?"

"Seriously," Leo insisted. "Who was that? Your mom?"

"She was my nanny," he admitted, unable to find the right word. She was undoubtedly more than that to him, but he always did have a problem with words. He waited for the obnoxious response.

Raph threw up his hands, grinning and chuckling uncontrollably. "Wait. Wait. You had a British nanny? What, did she have a magic umbrella and when she sang, subtitles would appear?" The turtle doubled over, his hands on his knees and laughing out loud. "I don't know what's more messed up, that you had a nanny or that your middle name's 'Marie'!"

Casey gestured to his red-banded friend. "This right here? You can see why I never told you guys about her. I would never have heard the end of it."

Raphael was lost in hysterical laughter, his mind bombarded with images of Casey in diapers or facing a corner in time-out. "Oh, this is so rich, its givin' me a fat-embolism!"

"I don't even know what that means," Casey said quietly.

"Yeah," Leo agreed. "I think it's super…supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

"Yeah," Casey said half-heartedly. "Yuck it up, guys. Yuck it up."

"Ok," the brothers said in unison.

Their so-called 'yucking up' was interrupted as a single brown spike landed between Casey's feet. The boy let out a surprised squeak and the laughter immediately ceased. They knew of only one source that spike could have come from.

"If it weren't obvious enough," Leonardo began, drawing his katanas" we've got company."

Fishface. Rahzar. Tigerclaw…to be specific.

Each of the three enemy mutants stood poised upon all three buildings of the alley, surrounding their prey almost completely.

"Well, if it isn't our favorite freaks!" Fishface hissed.

"Freaks?" Raph scoffed, twirling his sais. "You wanna be the pot or the kettle, sushi-head?"

"What do you want from us now?" Leo sighed.

"What we _want_," Razhar began, "is to grind your faces into the gravel and then dance on top of the remains…but it's not _specifically_ what we're here for right now."

"And what have you got to say, cat?" Leo demanded from Tigerclaw. A dangerous edge emerged in his voice as he said "You're not taking Karai back to the Shredder. She belongs with us!"

"I am not here on Master Shredder's orders," the tiger answered matter-of-factly. "I am a mercenary. So long as I am paid my dues, I will work for anyone…It just so happens that my latest benefactor is interested in you vermin as well."

"Us?" Leo asked. "What're you-woah!" He never finished as Tigerclaw pounced. Leo's reaction saved him from having his head slashed open.

So the fight was on. Raph faced Razhar and it was Casey versus Fishface. The alley was noisy with the sounds of steel clashing against wood, and claws sparking against steel. The turtles realized that fate was not on their side; they had just come from an exhausting practice drill, with their opponents no doubt fresh as daisies. Escape was the only option at the moment. All one of them needed was the chance to lay down a smoke bomb.

At some point, Casey had managed to knock Fishface out cold with his modified taser. Just in time as well.

Leo was in trouble. Tigerclaw had managed to knock away both katanas from him. Now, the blue-banded turtle stood with his shell to the wall, armed with naught but his small knife.

Tigerclaw raised his gun, aiming for one of Leo's legs. "My client never said you had to be in one piece." He squeezed the trigger.

"Goongala!"

The laser beam found its home instead in a hockey puck. Before Tigerclaw could fire another shot, the gun was knocked clean out of his paw by another puck. Growling in rage, the tiger looked around for the source of his annoyance.

"Booyaah!" Casey cheered, waving a hockey stick in the air triumphantly. He broke out of his reverie as the big tiger approached him. "Oh boy."

"No!" Leo sprang forward to defend his friend but was forced to block a strike from Razhar instead.

Casey was easily outmatched despite putting up a good fight. He could not react fast enough as Tigerclaw seized him by the neck. "Put me down, you giant mutated Hello Kitty!"

"Stupid boy," Tigerclaw growled. Heaving back, the mutant threw Casey into the air as if he were a discus.

Raph and Leo watched helplessly. Their friend was moving high and fast. If the whiplash hadn't killed him, the landing surely would.

"Casey!" he heard his friends scream in horror. They would never reach him in time.

From then on, everything seemed to move in slow motion for Casey. Everything except for the memories that flashed before his eyes: the birth of his baby sister, his first hockey victory, the last time he held his mom's hand, his grief leading him to his first act of vigilantism, Paige singing and dancing as she cooked dinner for his family, meeting the four best and greenest friends in the world, his argument with his dad-which he never resolved. He was going to die without mending their relationship. He was going to die never having thanked his friends for all they done for him.

_So this is how it ends_, he thought as the sky blurred past him. _Casey Jones_-_**The **__Casey Jones-done-in by an overgrown cat in a scarf._

He must have crossed two blocks and peaked at thirty feet in the air. He could feel it now, he was nearing the ground. He closed his eyes and waited for the end as one final regret crossed his mind.

_I never did get that kiss from Red…_

Yet somehow the end never came.

Something had saved him, catching him like a net before he could meet the ground. He opened his eyes. He deduced that he was in another alley, probably a few blocks away from where the fight was still occurring. Then he looked at what he lay on.

It was white. And soft. And crinkled under his touch.

It was as strange as it was strangely familiar…

Paper.

It was paper.

Crisp, white, office paper.

Each individual sheet was linked together, forming a protective net around him, with all four corners bonded to the walls of the alley. Casey sat up to look at the source of this bizarre phenomenon. She stood at the mouth of the alley with one hand on her hip and the other loosely gripping the white papery structure that saved his life. Her expression was one of pure exasperation as she looked down at him with large brown eyes.

Paige gave an audible sigh. "I can't take my eyes off you for one minute, can I?"


	4. Revelations

**Chapter Four: Revelations**

Casey propped up his mask so he could speak clearly. "Paige, what the heck?"

"_You_ tell me," she insisted. "One minute, I'm on me way to a pub, the next I'm having to save your sorry bum from turning into roadkill! The next time you have to-Casey?"

She didn't finish her sentence as Casey remembered the situation, climbed out of the net, and rushed out of the alley posthaste. "Thanks, Paige, but can't talk right now!"

"Teenagers," Paige sighed. With a flick of her wrist, the paper net structure collapsed, coating the alley floor in white. Then she held out both arms and the papers once again came to life, hovering towards her and into her coat sleeves like infant birds to the nest. She continued this until the alley was completely free of paper.

She couldn't leave any clues.

Then she turned on her heels and followed suit, retrieving the brown leather trolley bag she had previously set aside as she went.

* * *

Meanwhile...

"You monster!" Raph growled, charging at Tigerclaw with full force. His sais were an angry blur in his hands. "Dropping him from a building wasn't enough for you?"

"No," Tigerclaw growled.

This only served to spur the turtle's fury and he lunged at him with renewed vigor. He changed tactics and began fighting with a flurry of kicks. However, the human cat easily countered, grabbing Raphael by the foot and throwing him into the nearest wall. The red-banded turtle slumped to the floor, barely hanging onto his consciousness. Leonardo followed not two seconds later after Razhar managed to slip him a good kick to his head.

Tigerclaw waved a paw at Xever. "Fetch the chains. We will hunt down the rest later. For now, we should bring these two in."

But Razhar seemed hardly sated. "I'm not finished with them," he hissed, stepping forward.

Tigerclaw stopped him with a clawed grip on his shoulder. "Enough, mutt…Bishop-sensei needs them alive, remember?"

_Bishop?_ Raph thought.

"Now," Tigerclaw continued. "Razhar, take the other one and we will head back."

"Stay away from my friends!"

The three mutants turned to find a masked Casey Jones rushing at them and brandishing one hockey stick. Though, instead of putting up a fight, the three villains simply stood aside and let physics take care of the rest. Casey went crashing forward, his face meeting the wall with an "Ooof!" and sliding down next to his friends.

The teenager sat up, rubbing his forehead. "Ouch Town, Population: me."

"Well that rescue went well," Raph scoffed.

Leo sat up, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We're in over our heads, guys."

Fishface stepped forward, a large coil of chain in his hands."If you girls are done kissing, we've got business to attend to."

Casey cleared his throat. "Leo?"

Their leader reached into his belt and produced one of Donatello's smoke bombs. "We're leaving!" With practiced ease, he threw it to the ground and by the time the smoke cleared, they were gone.

"NO!" Tigerclaw roared, banging one clawed fist on a wall. "Those cowards!" He then proceeded spending the next two minutes blaming the failed capture on his comrades. The alleyway was noisy with an assortment of curses and swear words in English, Japanese, and Portuguese. When the arguing had finally died down, the three mutants begrudgingly agreed to return to their base.

They never noticed their spectator at the entrance of the alleyway.

Paige was standing with her back against the wall, having watched the entire strange scene unfold. Four index cards were interlaced with the fingers on her right hand, completely at the ready; she was prepared to defend herself and Casey if need be.

But before she could rush in, she was blinded by a white flash and a puff of smoke. When she could open her eyes again, her boy was gone along with the two turtles. She fought the urge to panic, lest she alert the three monsters who appeared to be the enemy. She would see him again, she reminded herself; her boy was too stubborn to let himself get killed, that much she was sure of.

With a heavy sigh, she slipped the index cards back into her pocket and reached for her trolley bag.

_What has that boy gotten himself into?_ she thought as she walked away.

* * *

After replacing the manhole cover, Raph joined Casey and Leo on the sewer floor with a sigh of relief.

"How's your head, Leo?" he asked his brother.

"Fine," Leo answered halfheartedly, rubbing the back of his head. "More or less."

Raph draped an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Come on, we should get outta here."

They were a good ten paces away when they realized that Casey hadn't moved. The teenager stood looking up at the manhole cover, an expression of pure worry on his face.

"Casey?" asked Leo.

"I'm just worried about Paige," the boy sighed. "I hope she was far enough away when the brawl started."

"I'm sure she's safe," Raph reassured.

After another minute Casey wordlessly moved to join his friends, the look of concern still present on his face. They travelled in silence through the darkness.

"By the way," said Raph as they reached the half-way mark. "Casey, how'd you survive that throw? I thought for sure you were a goner."

Casey nearly stopped in his tracks as he remembered. He couldn't tell them, could he? They'd never believe him. Plus, he recalled a certain promise he made at the age of twelve, the day Paige had to go back to England. It was a child's promise, but it was a promise nonetheless.

He recovered from his stupor just in time to give his friend the most convincing answer he could muster. "…Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I landed in a dumpster." He braced his hands on his lower back and stretched himself backwards. "Not a very comfy one either. I got a splinter the size of Cuba."

"Speaking of Splinter," said Leo. "We should go report this."

"I wasn't speakin' o' Splinter," Casey pointed out. "I said I got _a_ splinter."

Raph rolled his eyes. "Dude, after being with us for all this time, I thought you'd know better than to argue with him."

"Yeah," Casey agreed, "I guess."

"Guys," Leo said. "I'm standing right here."

"We know," they said simultaneously.

* * *

The Lair was the quietest it had been in months, despite the fact that most things were still status quo. Donnie was still working the lab, Karai still had the day shift at Murakami's, Casey still had school, Master Splinter still beat them senseless if they acted up, training still went on as scheduled. There was only one disturbance to the family flow: Michelangelo had the flu.

In the past 24 hours, the youngest turtle had done nothing but lay in bed and rest and, on occasion, throw up. The loneliness and quiet of his room was getting to him and he decided to move to the living room couch. He was still sick, but at least he had company. Some time in the morning, Splinter joined his ailing son on the couch, sitting by his head. Quarter past one, Karai returned home from her shift and spent the rest of the day sitting by her baby brother's feet.

Now the turtle lay under a pile of blankets, a contented smile on his face. "Thanks for sitting with me, guys," he said gratefully. "I'm already startin' to feel better."

Splinter placed a cool paw on his son's forehead. "It is not a problem, my son."

"Yeah," said Karai. "You have to have company when you're sick." A smirk appeared on her face. "You never know if you're gonna croak! Haha!" With that, she erupted into a contained yet hysterical laughter…until she realized no one was interested in laughing _with_ her. "Nobody? Ok." Her smile melted and she directed her gaze to the floor.

"Tadaima!" came Leo's voice.

"Okaeri!" Karai returned as the boys crossed the turnstile.

"Welcome home, my sons," Splinter greeted. His brow furrowed in concern as he took in his boys' expressions.

Raphael quietly made his way over to his punching bag and proceeded to take his frustrations out on it. Leo moved to sit beside Splinter, his eyes downcast. Casey sat opposite them and next to Karai, his face grave.

Mikey sat up. "Hey, dudes. D'ya get that miso minestrone I asked for?"

"Sorry, Mikey," said Leo, "but we got kinda sidetracked…by Tigerclaw."

Kari's eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "What?"

"Were you hurt?" asked Splinter.

"No, Sensei," Raph answered, giving the punching bag one final hit, "but they almost had us."

"What did they want?" Karai half-demanded.

"I don't know," Leo admitted. "But they did mention someone."

"Where's Donnie?" Raph wondered. "'Cuz I think he might wanna hear what we found out."

"What might I wanna hear?" Donnie strolled in from his laboratory, his welding mask propped up on his face. He was wiping his hands with a grease-stained rag.

"Donnie," Leo began, "what do you know about a Bishop?"

The purple-banded turtle raised an eyebrow. "A bishop? Well, a bishop is a Christian clergyman, ordained by-"

"No, doofus," Raph cut in. "Someone _named_ Bishop. Tigerclaw's been working for him."

Donatello shrugged. "I don't know, but there's probably something about it in the Foot database…Wait, Tigerclaw? Did something happen?"

"We were ambushed on our way to Murakami's," Leo answered. "But we can elaborate later. We gotta find out about this Bishop guy. You still think you can hack into the Foot's system?"

Donatello's shoulders gave a noticeable droop. He shook his head. "No, they've probably hulked up their security by now."

"What about the Cloud?" Karai suggested.

Donnie's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah. Absolutely! I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail." Dropping the rag, he zipped back into his lab.

Raph turned stone-faced. "And he wonders why we make fun of him…Well, I'm getting a soda. Anyone?"

Karai held up two fingers as Raph headed to the kitchen. She looked over at Casey. "So, you talk to your dad yet?" she asked quietly. "It's been four days now, man."

"No," he sighed. "Every time I think about it, I just get angry all over again."

"Welcome to my world," she said, catching the cans of soda Raph tossed to her. "I guess we're _both_ here on borrowed time."

Casey offered an awkward gap-toothed grin. "Aw come on, dude. My dad wasn't nearly as bad as yours was to you."

She could only shrug, a small but sincere smile crossing her face. "Yeah. At least your dad's going out of his way to make you miserable for _you_ instead of for himself." She handed him the extra can of soda. "Don't be so hard on each other."

He accepted the cool beverage with a crooked smile. "Thanks, Karai." He then noticed someone being unusually quiet. "Hangin' in there, Mikey?"

Michelangelo pumped one fist in the air. "Hangin' in there!" he answered.

Not ten minutes later, Donnie emerged from his lab, his laptop cradled in his hands. He made his way to the coffee table and set the laptop down, seating himself on the floor in front of it. "Gather around." He waited patiently as his family crowded around him; Mikey could only turn his head from where he lay on the couch. "Look at this satellite picture, it was taken two days ago. At the docks."

Mikey raised an eyebrow. "Why do bad guys always have to meet at the docks?"

"Shush!" his siblings chided.

Everyone looked closely at the figures in the picture. The photo showed two suited figures shaking hands. One was of medium height and bald-headed, standing on the dock. The other was disembarking from a small sailboat; he was tall and dark-skinned with shortly-cropped dark hair, his eyes obscured by a pair of sunglasses.

"The one with the glasses must be Bishop," Donnie assumed. "And the other is…" He hesitated.

"Oroku Saki," Karai seethed, glaring at the screen. "I'd know that ugly suit anywhere."

"That explains Tigerclaw's connection to Bishop," Donnie added. "But not what he wants with us."

"Hey, he's in cahoots with the Shredder," said Raph. "That's all I need to tell me that this Bishop must be sick in the head and out for blood."

Leo was still unconvinced. "You think this could be the same guy?"

"I don't know," Donnie admitted, his fingers dancing over the keys and creating a symphony of clicks.

"Can you do a little more digging?" Leo asked.

"Wait," Donnie cut in. "Here, I've found something else about Bishop. An old news article from…20 years ago."

"Emphasis on _old_," Karai added.

Everyone looked closely at the screen. The post showed small cut-out of a newspaper with the words _British Library: Leaders Of Medicine _as the headline.

"The British Library?" Casey asked. "Who the heck are they?"

"I don't know," Donnie admitted, "but it says here that they were _huge_ back then. That they were the whole driving force behind the British Empire. They had branches all over the world. They owned schools, libraries, a few hospitals. They were a major superpower at the time."

Donnie clicked on a link and a photo appeared on the screen. In the photo were a handful of preppy and posh-looking people sitting on the front steps of the British Museum. There was a caption at the bottom of the photo reading: Medical Division Staff.

Donnie thrust out one green finger at the screen. "That's Bishop. Upper left. It says here that he was the head of the division. And a medical genius. He's an expert on viral diseases and genetics."

Raph crossed his arms over his plastron. "So we got ourselves an evil scientist?"

"Looks that way," Donnie confirmed. "A bonafide Dr. Frankenstein." He furrowed his brow. "There's one problem, though…this article is linked to his obituary…William Bishop died nineteen years ago."

"Died?" Raph echoed. "How's that possible?"

"Your heart stops beating," Karai said flatly.

"How can you make jokes at a time like this?" Donnie asked.

"It's my defense mechanism."

"Now, hold on, guys," Leo cut in. "We don't even know if they guy in the satellite picture _is_ Bishop."

"Are you kidding me?" Raph insisted. "It's all there, Lame-O. This _is_ our guy."

"Then explain the whole "dead" thing, Raph."

Raph threw up his hands in frustration. "Look, we've dealt with mutants, aliens, ghosts-is a living dead guy really so weird to you?"

Donnie raised an eyebrow at the absurdity of it. "Zombies? Really?"

"I mean," Raph clarified, "the guy's a genius. And that means that faking his death shouldn't be so hard for him to do, right?"

Donnie scoffed. "That's…that's actually not a bad idea."

"Wow," said Mikey. "Raph actually used his head."

"Can it, Sicky!" Raph snapped.

"We still can't go in blind, Raph," Leo continued.

"The only one who's blind…"

"…arguing isn't going to solve…"

"…I'm gonna knock your heads together if…"

"…making my head ache…"

"…silence, all…you…"

In the confusion, Casey had stepped forward and taken a closer look at the photo. More specifically, a person in the photo. His friends' words seemed to dissolve in the air, being replaced by a deafening silence.

He felt his heart plummet into his stomach and his mouth go dry. He lost grip of the soda can in his hand and it fell to the floor in a fizzy heap.

In the photo, sitting right beside William Bishop, was Paige.

* * *

**Translation:**

*Tadaima! and Okaeri! - This is a Japanese exchange between housemates or family members. If you are coming home, you say Tadaima, which basically means you're saying "I'm home!" or "'I'm back!". Anyone at home at the time answers "Okaeri!", which is basically them saying "Welcome home!".


	5. The Real Suitcase

**Chapter Five: The Real Suitcase**

Paige woke late that morning, about a quarter to twelve. She was accustomed to this, of course, having never worked in almost twenty years. The royalties she had from her previous job were generous enough to secure her a comfortable existence for the rest of her life.

She walked into her living room and looked around in annoyance. The apartment may have been furnished but it had yet to acquire the details of a home. Boxes were strewn everywhere, begging to be unburdened. She missed her apartment building back in London. Most of all, she missed her books. But every time she saw the empty bookshelves in her new home, she felt the excitement of the prospect of filling them up. That was enough for her. For now.

As she did every morning, Paige executed her yoga routine. She loved yoga; every woman in her maternal family swore by it. Paige thought of it as the secret to her exceptional health and appearance even at 44. It also helped a lot with stress.

However, no amount of yoga could shake the worry she woke with this morning. She still couldn't stop thinking of what had happened with Casey yesterday. Her sweet but undeniably clumsy Casey. If there was one thing she regretted, it was not being around for the past six years he'd grown up. But he'd turned into a decent young man just fine without her. Bless him, though, she still loved him as if he were her own son. And seeing him in danger brought a familiar chill down her spine.

What has become of him?

This question in mind, she fixed herself a glass of juice and sat down on the living room couch. Producing her phone, she composed a text for the number he'd given her yesterday.

**Good morning, Casey.**

Her heart skipped a beat as she received his reply not two minutes later.

**Mornin', P :)**

He was safe, thank goodness. With the worry cleared, curiosity took its place. She composed another text.

**Still fancy a bit of lunch today? Like we planned?**

She was in the mood for answers as she waited patiently for his reply. She had some finding out to do. Perhaps some of Casey's favorite sausages and mash would loosen up that honesty reflex of his. Her phone beeped and what she read made her roll her eyes in frustration.

**Really sorry, P. Have 2 attend study session. How 'bout 2morow?**

Paige sighed. She hated being cancelled on. Though she supposed this had something to do with yesterday's "incident". She decided not to push it. She texted again.

**Alright. 1 more chance ;)**

Casey replied immediately.

**Thanks, P. Just go do what you had planned 2day. Again, sorry.**

Do whatever she had planned today? That she would. She was just about to rise from the couch when another text came in.

**Thanks for saving me yesterday. 3**

She smiled.

**Only doing my job. 3**

Setting her phone down, she stood up and saw to her grooming regimen. She donned one of her many white afternoon dresses and her favorite beige trench coat. As she always did before leaving home, she kissed the photo of her and her late husband. Starting off her day any other way just never felt right. Then she exited her apartment and headed to her car, her brown leather trolley bag in tow.

First things first: her chores. Her first stop was the hardware store for cleaning supplies and some security equipment; she trusted Brooklyn about as far as she could throw a table. Then it was off to the grocery store to stock up on non-perishables. She made a pit stop at a bookstore to pick up the first additions to her collection, unable to resist the urge. She was thankful that she'd chosen a large family van for her new car; her first choice, a Sudan, would never have done. It was half-past four when she reached her next destination.

The New York Public Library.

She smiled in adoration as she parked. If it hadn't been for her mission, she'd have happily spent the entire day buried in books. There were a select few things that she loved more than reading, her book-filled apartment building back in England was an ode to that. After parking, she trotted up the steps with surprising ease for a woman of her age. She entered and made her way to the nearest elevator. She was about to close it shut when a young Asian student joined her. Coincidentally, the young lady was going to the same level: the restricted section in the lower ground floor.

"Extra credit?" Paige asked the girl. "I'm assuming that's how you got permission to view the restricted section."

"Yes," she answered politely. "Had to pull a lot of strings just to get access to there. Luckily, my little brother's a genius at that."

Paige smiled, discreetly taking notice of the young lady and her bold hair and eye makeup. She resisted the urge to comment on how hot she must have been in her bulky leather jacket. _Teenagers and their fashion_, she thought.

They reached their destination and parted ways. As Paige expected and hoped for, there were no more than a handful of people in the large room. She strode over to one poorly-lit corner, being as inconspicuous as she could. Kneeling down in the shadows, in front of the leftmost bookshelf, she did a double take to see if anyone was watching. Then she got to work.

One book at a time, Paige emptied one half of the bottom row. When she was done, she ran her fingers over the floor of the bookcase until she came upon a familiar quarter-sized carving. Pushing down on it like a button, she opened a secret compartment on the floor next to her. There it was, just where she left it seven years ago: her platinum suitcase. With expert speed and stealth, she re-sealed the secret compartment, cleaned up her mess, and smuggled the suitcase out of the library and into her car. With that done, she proceeded to her next and final destination: Central Park.

Paige never noticed her motorcycle-mounted pursuer.

She arrived at Central Park just as the sun was setting. Dismounting, she brought out her leather trolley along with the platinum suitcase she'd retrieved from the library. She walked deep into the park, dragging the trolley behind her and the suitcase in her other hand. She needed a place with lots of trees and no people. More than once during her journey to through the park, she looked over her shoulder in response to a rustling of leaves or a strange gut feeling. Every time, though, she found nothing. Maybe she was just nervous.

What she was about to do did not exactly qualify as legal, after all.

By the time she'd found the perfect spot, it was completely dark save for the street lights. She'd found a large clearing surrounded by just enough trees to muffle out the sound. Kneeling in the center of the clearing, she set down both bags side by side. She opened the leather one, revealing it to be empty. However, this was no ordinary trolley.

She tore open the inner lining, reached in, and produced a small but intimidating-looking explosive device.

With deft fingers, and a reasonable amount of tape, she attached it to one side of the platinum case. Then she pulled down her left sleeve to look at the microcomputer strapped to her wrist-another nice little gift from her old job. She tinkered around with the buttons and inputted the secret code. The explosive she'd attached to the case began blinking a tiny green light; it had found the signal. After some more tinkering with the buttons, she programmed the countdown switch. Sixty seconds should be just enough time. All that was left to do was press the little red button...

"Freeze, Mary Poppins!"

Paige whirled round and took a defensive stance, gripping a sheet of pad paper between two fingers. What she saw made her eyes go wide as dinner plates. She knew that voice, but the figure it came from puzzled her. He stood a few paces from her, his body covered in padding and a baseball bat and hockey stick strapped across his back. Obscuring his face was a white hockey mask that was painted to resemble a skull.

"Casey?" she gasped. "What are you doing here? And what on earth are you wearing?"

Casey propped up his mask, revealing his painted face. "Enough, Paige. Tell me why you've kept all this from me."

"What are you talking about?"

"_You_ tell me, Paige."

* * *

"You're sure it's her, Casey?" Leo asked, keeping a steady hand on Casey's shoulder.

"I'm positive, Leo," he answered shakily.

Donnie decided to weigh in. "The photo was taken twenty years ago, Casey. Maybe-"

With a huff, Casey shrugged off his friend's hand. "I know what I saw, guys! That's Paige. I'd know her anywhere."

The boy then proceeded to pace around the den, nearly tripping over Karai, who was knelt down and wiping up the soda he'd spilt. Donnie was still sitting with his laptop, typing to see what else he could find. Master Splinter sat with Mikey, holding an ice pack over his sleeping son's head; the poor turtle had suffered a relapse from all the excitement.

"Calm down, Casey," Raph insisted from his place near the kitchen.

Leo agreed. "Yeah, Casey. When it's Raph that's telling you to calm down, you know it's bad."

Raph nodded. "Yeah…Wait, what?"

"I can't!" the human boy bellowed. "What the heck is Paige doin' in that photo? What's she doin' with Bishop? The British Library? Gah! I don't even know where to start!"

Donnie's fingers were a blur over the keyboard. "According to this, there's no record of her. Paige Higgins, right?"

"Yeah," Casey sighed, having calmed down somewhat.

The purple-banded turtle shook his head. "Nope. Nothing."

Casey bent down and braced his hands on the edge of the coffee table. "This sucks! This sucks donkey-"

"Ahem," came from Splinter, and Casey wisely shut his mouth.

Karai stood, a rag and a bucket of dirty water in her hands. "And if you make a bigger mess, I'll kick in whatever teeth you have left." She made her way to the kitchen to wash her hands.

"Guys," Donnie continued. "Seriously, I'm not getting anything on her. There's practically no information about the British Library's employees."

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Raph. "Let's go see this 'Paige' lady and see what _she_ knows."

"No," was Casey's immediate response.

Raph shrugged. "Okay, then _you_ do it."

"No," Casey repeated firmly. "Just drop it, Raph."

"You said so yourself that that's her," Raph insisted, threatening to turn this into a shouting match. "What do you wanna do, then?"

"Nothing!" he snapped. "You don't get it. This woman used to feed me a-and put clothes on me. She read stories to me and my little sister. She was there for me when my…mom died. And now I find out she kept this _huge_ thing from me…I find out that she might be an enemy. You guys just don't know what it's like."

"_I_ know what it's like." The voice came from Karai, who'd come in from the kitchen. She was wiping her hands with a paper towel. "Casey," she began in a serious tone. "The only way to know-the only way to get any peace of mind-is to find out for yourself." She locked gazes with Casey, but he was the first to look away, his own eyes downcast.

Leo wanted to relieve the tension in any way he could. "Donnie," he began. "Switch tactics. What can you find out about the British Library? Are they friendly?"

"From what I can see here, they were _very_ friendly. They were a major superpower in the fields of education, humanities, publishing, health-care, etcetera. They were basically the driving force behind the whole United Kingdom and-to an extent-the _entire_ Western world."

"Wait," Raph began, having picked up on one little detail. Past tense. "_Were_?"

The turtle in purple nodded. "Yeah…it says here that they shut down twenty years ago. Bankruptcy."

Raphael scoffed. "How does a major superpower go bankrupt?"

Donnie scratched at the back of his head. "That's just it. Everything's so shady…How can a huge, globally-ranked organization disappear so suddenly? As if they never existed."

"But they did exist," said Splinter as he ran a damp rag over Mikey's face. "I remember them now. They were the ones who sent missionaries to my clan's village. They taught us the basics of the English language and the alphabet."

Donnie nodded. "That _does_ sound like something in their field. Well, the way I see it, no source on the internet is gonna tell us the whole story. If we want answers-to everything-then Paige is the only way we have of getting them."

"Then let's go and see what she knows," Raph persisted.

"That is not up to you, Raphael," Splinter countered firmly. After gently laying the ice pack on Mikey's head, he stood and made his way over to Casey. The rat placed one cold paw on the boy's shoulder. "Casey, I will have my sons swear not to hurt this Paige-san, but if she is indeed a link to Bishop, then we must find out what she knows about him." There came a tenseness in his voice as he added, "_Especially_ if this Bishop intends to harm my sons."

It was true. His friends' safety was on the line. And the timing was very suspicious, Paige just happening to show up just as Bishop entered the country. The circumstances were also a red flag; Bishop was head of a medical group, and Paige was a licensed doctor. Could she really have worked with him? Could she _still_ _be_ working with him?

Paige?

Sweet but stern, gentle, and loving Paige? The same woman who sang his little sister those beautiful Hindi lullabies? Who provided his father with free healthcare out of the goodness of her heart? Who baked him birthday cakes with his mom every year for ten years? Who picked him up from hockey practice when his dad couldn't? Who sang him to sleep the night his mom passed away?

He took one deep solemn breath, letting it out with a sigh.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Here's the plan…Paige said she would cancel her plans tomorrow to have lunch with me. I'll tell her I can't make it and we can tail her from there…She told me she had a new place in…"

* * *

"You followed me here?" Paige demanded. "Stalked me the whole day?"

"Paige," Casey continued, his voice breaking. "What have you done?"

Paige's hands were trembling. She still couldn't believe he'd caught her. "Casey, I-I…I can explain, I swear."

"It can wait." He thrust out a mitted hand. "Just give me the remote. I'm not letting you blow up Central Park."

"What? No, Casey, it's not a bomb, I swear. Yes, there's C4 on it, but-"

Casey flashed his teeth, his patience wearing thin. "I said _can it_, Paige. Give me the remote."

"No, Casey." She tightened her grip on the device on her wrist. "I'm going to finish what I started. What I'm doing is harmless, I swear."

He lowered the mask back onto his face. "Last chance, Paige."

"No!" she repeated firmly. "Casey, I need you to trust me."

"Well, right now the people of New York need me to keep them safe." He drew a hockey stick from the holster strapped to his back.

All the gloom left Paige's face, replaced by an intimidating seriousness. "Casey, I know you won't fight me."

"That's why we're here."

From the trees around her descended three green creatures. Tall as the average man, they had large shells mounted on their backs and limbs that resembled a human's. Strapped over each of their faces were eye masks ranging in the colors red, blue, and purple. Then came a rustling behind her and Paige looked over her shoulder. There stood twenty paces from her was the Asian student she'd shared an elevator with at the library. She'd discarded her leather jacket in favor of a black suit and her book bag for a short single-edged sword.

For a moment, Paige was completely baffled.

That was when they struck.


	6. Trust

**Chapter Six: Trust **

Leo saw the look of pure confusion on Paige's face and took advantage of the situation.

"Get the remote!" he ordered. His team complied, rushing at Paige with intimidating speed from all directions. Karai stayed where she shoot, playing back-up just as Leo told her. As per their promise to Casey, none of them had their weapons drawn; it was get the remote and get out. "Non-lethal force!" Leonardo added, sprinting forward to join them.

Casey watched as his friends swarmed her and remembered one small but very important piece of information. His eyes went wide. "Guys!" he shouted. "Wait!"

But he was too late. There was a flash of white and almost immediately after they lunged in for the attack, the turtles found themselves face down and back where they'd started, their limbs aching and very dazed. Karai blinked in confusion but then recovered from her stupor in time to rush over to her brothers.

"You guys okay?" she asked.

Raph sat up, rubbing his stomach. "What the heck just happened?" he sputtered; he felt like he'd just taken a wrecking ball to the gut.

Leo pushed himself up, blinking dirt out of his eyes. "Anybody get the number of that truck?"

They all looked to the source of their confusion. And there stood Paige, still poised protectively over her two cases, but now with a small shield in her left hand and an Indian push-dagger in her right. She glowered at them. "Try that again," she said boldly.

Casey finally realized what he'd forgotten to tell his friends. "Oh yeah…did I mention she kinda taught me how to fight?"

"No!" was the terse reply from all of them.

As they were trained to do, the four ninjas assessed their opponent's weapons…If they could be called weapons. The shield and the push-dagger in Paige's hands, although they had the look and shape of weapons, completely lacked the glinting and visual appearance of metal. Instead they were matte, completely white from end to end, and appeared to be made of an unknown substance.

"Ok," Donnie heaved, rubbing his rear end. "Minor setback."

"We gotta get that remote," Leo told his team.

Finally recovering, Raph stood, twirling his sais. "You want that remote?"

Raphael rushed at her in a blur of motion. He stabbed, slashed, and kicked and he was outwitted each time. Whatever strike Paige couldn't parry, she blocked with her shield. She kept her knees bent as they exchanged blows, steadying her center of gravity. When she wasn't defending, she countered with lightning speed, wielding her push-dagger with force unexpected from a woman her age. Her feet disappeared under her in distorted motion, concealed by the folds of her dress and trench coat. Raphael held his own despite the fact that the style Paige employed was unfamiliar to him.

Leonardo hesitantly drew his swords. He wanted to keep the promise he and his team had made to Casey, but the mission was the first priority. He breathed out one determined breath. "We need to get that remote and lead Paige away from those suitcases. Donnie, you and Raph are with me. Karai, you're back-up. Let's move!"

At some point in the their scuffle, Paige had sent one mighty kick Raphael's way and sent him flying. He landed in Karai's waiting arms as Leonardo and Donatello took over. "Man, she can really move in that dress," Raph panted. Karai raised an eyebrow. Then he realized what he just said. "Not that I was checking her out-I mean checking _it_ out-I mean…Aaargh!" He charged forward to try a different attack; he needed to get that shield away from her if he wanted that remote.

* * *

Casey looked on at the ensuing fight, unable to find the strength to join in. He was far-far-away. The Casey Jones from a week or a month ago would be giving him the argument and whooping of his life if he could see him now. He already could hear the snappy dialogue in his head.

Eventually, his mind wandered down a rabbit hole leading him to the conversation he had with one of his friends that same morning.

_The lair was gravely quiet. Karai walked into the den from her room, her phone pressed to one ear. There she found Raphael seated in front of the TV and half-heartedly watching the morning news. The rest of the family was still asleep since Master Splinter had cancelled training for the day; he decided that they would need their rest. _

_Karai hung up with a murmured _domo arigato_. "Okay, I called Murakami-san and he's giving me today off." She looked at the spot on the couch where Casey had set up his own little roost. He was, oddly, not there. "Where's Casey?"_

_Raph shrugged. "I dunno. Last I saw him, he was murmuring something about being more depressed than he was when he watched the Last Airbender movie."_

_Karai dropped her phone with a loud crack. "And you left him _alone_?!" she yelped. She then sprinted to every corner of the den, searching almost frantically. "Where is he?" When there was no answer, she made her way to her red-banded brother and grabbed him by the shoulders. She shook him so violently as to be funny. "You tell me where he is!"_

_"Dude, calm down, he's in the kitchen!" Raph answered distortedly. _

_Without so much as an apology, Karai scrambled over the couch, stepping on Raph's head for purchase and causing it to withdraw into his shell. She shoved away the curtain and what she saw chilled her to the bone. Casey had his entire upper body in the pizza oven, apparently unmoving. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, causing Casey to bolt upwards in surprise and hit his spine on the oven door._

_He emerged from the oven, covered in soot, his bandana over his nose, and a brush in each hand. He rubbed his spine with the back of his hand. "Karai, what the heck?"_

_"Sorry," she muttered. "Raph said you were depressed and here you were with your head in the oven."_

_He deposited his cleaning supplies in the sink and pulled his bandana down. "I was cleaning it, Karai. Mikey sure as heck doesn't. Besides, it's a wood-burning oven. If I was gonna end it all, I'd choose something quicker than baking." He sat down at the table with a heavy sigh._

_"Fair enough," she said, sliding onto the chair opposite him._

_The boy pulled the bandana from his neck and ran his hands over it thoughtfully. "She gave me this," Casey said dejectedly. _

_"What?" Karai asked._

_He hung his head in sadness. "My bandana. Paige gave it to me when I was twelve-before she left for England. Since then, we haven't really talked much. I figured she'd wanna get on with her life. I mean, she was _just_ a nanny. And we were _just_ her college friend's kids."_

_Karai's brow furrowed in melancholy. She didn't like self-depreciation; she'd always looked down on it with disgust. Now, she felt only sympathy…and frustration. This was Casey Jones. This was her stubborn, impulsive, and arrogant friend. The one with a penchant for hissy fits that rivaled her brother Raphael's. Not some heartbroken schoolgirl. She knocked on the table, causing him to look up from his spiral of self-pity. _

_"Look," she began, "the way I see it, you really don't have anything to lose here. From what you told us about Paige, if it turns out that she's innocent, that's great and we can all laugh about this one day. But if she's not...then, she was never worthy of those good memories you had of her to begin with…and you've still got us, haven't you?"_

_A small smile formed on Casey's face. He realized it was true. "…Yeah," he agreed._

_"But," Karai added, "if you seriously think you can trust her, and she won't hurt my brothers, then you let me know. You let me know and I'll do what I can to help you."_

_"You think I should give her a second chance?"_

_Karai leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why not? After all, if it weren't for second chances…or _you_…_I_ wouldn't be here, remember?"_

_He flashed her a crooked, gap-toothed smile. "Oh yeah." He knocked on his head. "Derp."_

_Karai drummed her fingers on the table, trying to think of a more pleasant topic to lighten the mood. "Hey, did I tell you? Murakami's is getting a karaoke machine."_

_"Cool. Now we got a place to sing that song Mikey's been working on."_

_"Yeah." She looked at the clock. It was just about time to execute the plan. "Well, first things first. You ready?"_

_Before he could answer, a loud chiming resonated through the kitchen. Casey reached into his pocket and produced his phone. He'd just received a text. "Perfect timing, Paige," he said to no one in particular, "as usual…Okay. Karai, could you get the others? It's show time."_

Casey snapped out of his reverie as something possessing the glint of metal slid towards him on the grass and stopped at his feet.

Paige's microcomputer…

* * *

Raph joined in as Donnie and Leo were distracting Paige. It took some trying and a blow to the gut, but he managed to knock the shield from her hand. He skidded away from the brawl on his belly and elbows, tasting dirt. In an instant, Karai was at his side.

Paige's brow furrowed; she'd noticed something on the red-banded turtle's face in the split-second before she kicked him. Why was he smiling? Then it occurred to her: he was aiming specifically for her shield. She looked at her left wrist. Her microcomputer was gone. Her eyes went wide as dinner plates and she looked around frantically. She couldn't continue her search, however, as she was forced to deflect katana and bo-staff blows left and right.

Raph spat out the last bits of dirt in his mouth. "Got it!" he yelled triumphantly. Then a strange beeping noise had started out of nowhere. "What's that noise?" Realizing it was coming from the device in hands, he turned it over to look at the screen. The tiny screen was flashing numbers in descending order from the number 60.

He'd pressed the countdown button.

:56

"Oops," he murmured.

"Raph!" Karai shouted with unhampered annoyance.

Leo looked over from where he and Donnie were fighting Paige. "What's going on over there?" he hollered. He ducked just as Paige swung her push-dagger at him.

"Raph pulled a _Mikey_ and started the countdown!" Karai answered.

:50

"Are you kidding me?!" Leo yelled, stomping a foot. His leader's mind raced to think of a solution. Fast. A light bulb blinked in his head. He looked at his purple-banded brother, realizing he could be the only one who'd know how to deactivate it.

But Donatello had already beaten him to it. He gave Leo a look as if to say "Distract her." Leo nodded and Donnie slipped away as he engaged Paige in single combat. Donnie ran to his red-banded brother. "Raph, toss it to me!"

Raph did so and in a tag-team manner, took his brother's place in the scuffle with Paige. "All yours, poindexter."

:45

Donatello went to work on the device. In no time at all, he'd dug up a way to cancel the countdown. "Okay," said the genius turtle, more to himself than to anyone else. "I've found the override switch." He looked at the screen, which now flashed a large green button. Failing to notice as Paige threw something at his direction, he poised his thumb over the override button-

"Donnie, look out!" Karai shouted. Too late.

Something slammed into his hand, knocking the remote from it and sending the device a considerable distance away. Donnie snatched his hand back with an exclamation of pain. He looked to the source and found a large white wheel-like object embedded in the tree next to him. Ever the curious mind, even in times like these, Donatello took a closer look at it. Before he could determine exactly what it was, the object "melted" into a rivulet of small white index cards and scattered in the wind.

Snapping to his senses, Donnie looked around for the remote. It didn't take long for him to find it at least thirty paces away from where he stood. The remote had skidded along the grass and came to stop in front of a pair of roller-bladed feet. The turtle had almost forgotten their human friend was there to begin with.

Casey Jones bent down and picked up the remote, an unreadable glaze over his eyes.

:36

In spite of the fight these shell-wearing ninjas had started, Paige managed to keep her eyes on the remote. She saw it land at Casey's feet. She knew from the start that this fight was pointless and her patience was wearing thin. She had to finish what she started.

"Right!" she huffed, blocking and countering a strike from Leo. "That is the last straw!"

In an unexpected move, Paige switched her push-dagger to her left hand just as Leo made another swing at her. The blue-banded turtle watched in self-induced slow-mo as his blade inched closer to her unprotected arm, unable to retract the attack. In the blink of an eye, her dagger had transformed into a new shield which deflected the blow. And then she followed through with blinding speed. Using two fingers, she jabbed at a certain spot in Leo's side. The blue-banded turtle crumpled to the ground in a twitching heap. Taking advantage of Raphael's surprised state, Paige repeated the process on him. She raised her shield, blocking a downward strike from Donatello. Using the momentum, she rounded on him and delivered a paralyzing blow to the back of his neck. He joined his brothers on the grass.

"I do hope you can forgive me for that," Paige breathed. Then she made for Casey.

:30

"Guys!" Karai exclaimed. She rushed over to where her brothers lay and knelt down. They were conscious but motionless.

"I'm fine," Leo insisted. "I just can't move."

"Me too," said Raph.

"Same here," Donnie agreed. He knew this feeling all too well; Master Splinter used it on them whenever they got just a little too rowdy. They wouldn't be able to move for a good while. "She got our pressure points. We're staying down. Karai, stop her!"

Gnashing her teeth, the kunoichi whirled round to see Paige sprinting towards Casey. She drew her sword and made for the Englishwoman, determined to not let her anywhere near Casey.

:27

"Casey," Paige called. "Stop!" She was the one to stop, however, as a katana-wielding Karai blocked her path. She switched her shield over to her right hand. In yet another mysterious display of what could only be called "magic", the shield transformed back into a push-dagger.

Karai was glaring at her with the ferocity of a coiled viper, standing protectively in front of Casey. "You leave him alone!" the kunoichi growled before lunging at her.

:23

Paige's push-dagger and Karai's sword met in an ear-splitting clang. They exchanged blows in a display reminiscent of a deadly dance. Paige was clearly more experienced and had superior coordination. Yet Karai had an advantage: she knew the way of push-daggers. She once sparred with Shredder on a regular basis, after all. She knew their biggest weakness: distance. She waited for an forward stab…

With speed too quick to counter, Karai dropped her katana, caught Paige's arm and threw her over her shoulder. Keeping a death-grip on Paige's arm, Karai disarmed her and threw the push-dagger far away.

"Casey," she shouted, "don't stand there like an idiot! Shut it down!"

Casey's grip tightened around the remote, the exertion threatening to break it. His friends shrieked and bellowed but their voices were just a few of the many resounding in his head. He was still lost. He didn't know what he wanted more, to believe his friends, or to listen to Paige.

Before Karai knew what was happening, Paige seized her arm and pulled her down to the ground with her. They grappled for a moment, but Karai was victorious, pinning Paige underneath her.

:19

"Shut it down, Casey!" Karai shouted again.

"Casey, I need you to trust me!" Paige was begging now.

"Press the button!" yelled Donnie.

"Casey, shut it down!" came from Raph.

"Do it now!" Leo shouted.

"Casey, look at me!" Paige begged.

Casey did so, staring into her eyes. They held the same look of love and honesty that they had for years. They were the same eyes that bore down on him when he'd done something foolish. The same eyes that produced tears of pride at his first hockey victory and tears of sadness as she wept over his mother's death with him. The same eyes that he looked to when he had no idea what to do. Much like now.

:13

But now they were joyless and glinting with desperation, tears threatening to spill from them. "I know you may have already heard some things about me…and a lot of them I can't _ever_ justify…but I swear to you: I would never do anything that would hurt you or yours. _Ever_!"

"Casey, what if she's lying?!" Leo shouted. "Press it now!"

:10

"Shut it down!" Raph roared.

:09

"Please!" Paige insisted. "Just trust me!"

:08

"Casey, you idiot!" Donnie shrieked. "Deactivate it now!"

:07

"Shut it down!"

:06

"Press the button!"

:05

Casey took one deep breath. "Paige," he forced out.

:04

Then came moment of pure nerve-wracking tension that rivaled the halting of Earth's spinning. Casey thrust out the hand that held the remote…

And dropped the device to the ground.

:03

He put up both hands in an unthreatening gesture. "…I'll always trust you," he said.

:02

The machine beeped its last and everyone closed their eyes and waited for the end. Everyone save for Paige, who bolted up and waved her right arm in a large arch just as the timer reached zero.

The ground gave a tiny and hardly-noticeable hiccup. One second passed, and then another, and another, and they were still in the world of the living. Casey and the Hamato siblings took a tentative peek at their situation. There was no damage at all: no fallen trees, no scorched earth, no mushroom cloud. After a while, the turtles could finally feel their limbs again. They stood up on shaky legs and looked for the bomb. But it was nowhere in sight. In its place now stood a strange white igloo-looking dome. Emitting from it were fine strings of white smoke.

Then Paige strode over to the dome. She was in no rush, walking at a pace reminiscent of a funeral march and her eyes downcast and sad. She did indeed feel like she was mourning something: the illusion for which she'd bled and worked so hard for twenty years. The illusion of her identity.

Finally reaching the dome, she knelt down and placed one hand on it. She made a clawing motion and the dome collapsed, scattering everywhere the sheets of paper from which it was made. Sat in the middle of the mess of papers were the leather trolley bag and the platinum suitcae, completely unscathed. Paige gave a halfhearted smirk as she looked at the platinum one. The explosives had done their job: they'd blown the locks clean off. She flipped the case open, revealing its contents to the world.

"This is what I came here for," Paige said solemnly.

The ninjas and Casey, their weapons still drawn, took a tentative step forward to look at the contents. In the suitcase were stacks upon stack of a glossy silver paper.

Paige cleared her throat, catching their attention again. "I needed the explosives because they were the only way to get this case open. If I had tried to open the locks myself, it would have set off an incendiary device-and that would have been worse, trust me. I told you what I was doing was harmless."

She made a flipping motion with one hand. In response, the silver papers came to life and, in a move reminiscent of cards being shuffled, transferred out of the platinum case and into the leather one. When the final sheet of paper was relocated, Paige closed the trolley shut and stood up. She then turned her attention to the white papers scattered everywhere. This was one mess she could not ignore. She held out both arms. Almost instantly, the papers rustled into life and flowed in two steady streams back into her coat sleeves. This continued until the only papers left on the grass were the scorched and blackened ones; those were useless to her.

Paige turned to her baffled audience. "Right," she began, smoothing out both sleeves. "I suppose it's time for that explanation I promised." She cleared her throat again. "My name is Padma Balasubramaniam Higgins. Ex Paper Master for The British Library Special Operations Unit, Medical Division. And the former twentieth holder of the codename 'Agent Paper'…

"And the next time you speak to me in that tone, Casey Jones, you will wish you'd been born a dog."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Wow, my first author's note in over 10 years. I don't really like to post them because they never felt professional to me, then I kicked myself in the head and told myself that we're all here for fun and not to take myself so seriously.

So here goes. Thanks so much to all who've followed and reviewed this story. I am a person who enjoys validation, so the fact that you even take time to skim my stories makes me feel like I'm not pointless . Special thanks to tvfan69 for helping me with a project that I will not disclose to the likes of you guys(for now). Shout out to BubblyShell22 and Andromakhe for being such great sports. And a big fat kiss to all of you lovelies who give me a review and, in doing so, a reason to smile and squee in the morning.

Just to clarify for anyone who might be confused: the part where Casey recalls the conversation he had with Karai, it's a subtle flashback in a flashforward (if that makes sense). Also, I hope you've noticed the subtle parallelism regarding the whole suitcase thing *wink*. I really really truly hope that my character Paige isn't coming off as a MS, that is honestly my worst fear when writing fanfiction. I fear it more than a root canal.

I'd also like to point out that these last 2 chapters didn't even exist until like 5 days ago, because being the paranoid person I am, I analyzed the original drafts to death and realized "Eh this isn't workin' for me". Oh well. We'll all take a closer look at Paige's personality in the next chapter. You'll see that even though she may now be a half-English and half-Indian goddess, deep deep down, she is twisted and crazy and ugly just like you and me. That's all I'm saying for now.

But I am curious now as to who's side you were taking during the countdown, Paige or the Turtles'? If you'd like to answer, please do:)

I, personally, was siding with Casey;)

I'll be updating soon. Thanks so much.


	7. A Building Full Of Books

**Chapter Seven: A Building Full Of Books**

"You think fireworks coulda done this?" Officer Truman asked his partner as he surveyed the perfect circle of scorched grass. Charred and blackened sheets of paper were strewn everywhere, scattering even father in the wind.

Officer Adler nodded. "Yeah. Pro'lly just a bunch o' kids with nothing better to do. Better go and report this."

"Giant talking ninja turtles, my rear end."

The two law-keepers returned to their vehicle to interrogate their questionable witness. Unbeknownst to them, the culprits were just out of sight, hidden in the shadows of the branches above them. Leonardo and his brothers stayed in their leafy cover as Casey and Karai were talking to Paige a few paces away. They would wait until the police left before doing so much as moving a limb. Talking, however seemed allowable.

The eldest turtle shook his head in annoyance. "Refresh my memory, Raph," Leo spat. "Who was the one who noticed the homeless guy calling the police and didn't tell us until the last minute?"

"For the last time, I thought he was crazy!" Raph argued from the branch he was perched on. "And how was I supposed to know that he was staying connected?"

"By looking at the cell phone in his hand, maybe?"

"Guys, I think Karai's calling us," Donnie cut in as he saw their sister waving at their direction.

After making sure there were no other people in sight, the three turtles leapt from their hiding places, landing expertly on the grassy earth. Paige was still seated on a park bench some ways away, Casey standing in front of her and talking up a storm.

Leonardo walked over to Karai, a question on his mind. "You guys worked it out?"

"For the most part, yeah," she answered. "We'll get to the rest once we get to her apartment."

"Are you nuts?" Raph demanded. "We can't trust her! She might still be working for Bishop."

Donatello stepped in. "Raph, I'm pretty sure that if she wanted to capture us, she'd have done it while we were, you know, on the ground? Unable to move?"

"Besides," Leo began, "We do still need answers from her."

"And Casey trusts her," Karai added. The turtles went deathly silent at the mention of their human friend's name.

Raphael, however, was not at a loss for words for too long. "Don't even mention that jerk!" he growled. "He didn't stick to the plan! You guys can't tell me you're not mad at him! And we have no reason to take a chance on _her_!"

Karai shrugged. "You took a chance on me."

Raph, still seething, looked away. His sister was right, and he could understand why Karai would be inclined to hear Paige out. But still…

"And," Karai said. "Who said I wasn't mad at him? I'm just going with my gut on this one. We don't need to trust her, we just-"

"I'm _not_ _asking_ you to trust me," said a heavily-accented and irritated voice. "Just come with me if you want your answers."

Paige stood with her hands braced on the handle of her trolley, her fingers drumming on the metal as she waited for a response from her silent audience. Casey stood at her side, an unreadable expression on his face and the platinum suitcase in his hand. "So, have you decided my fate?" she asked with a forced sweetness. "Because if you haven't, we should get to my apartment." She began walking to direction of the parking lot, Casey trailing behind her.

Raph let out a sarcastic snigger. "Oh yeah sure. Let's get into this complete stranger's tinted and suspicious van. Never mind she was knocking us around not ten minutes ago!"

Leonardo stroked his chin in thought. "Well," he started. "It really wasn't a bomb. We kinda found that out the hard way. Maybe we should give her a chance. I mean, Karai thinks it's alright."

"I should've known you'd take Karai's side on this," Raph said, earning himself a venomous glare from the kunoichi.

"But what about the whole Bishop thing?" Donatello whispered.

Casey stopped to turn to them. He tried to weigh in. "Guys, if my opinion counts for something-"

"It doesn't!" was the unanimous decision. The boy zipped his lip; he might have known they'd be cross with him. He could only hope it wouldn't last.

"Ahem!"

The children fell silent and turned to the source of the frustrated huff. Paige stood with her arms crossed, one hip jutting out. "You know, perhaps instead of blatantly talking about a person in front of them, one should show some manners and speak to them _directly_. Maybe even give them an introduction or two."

Casey scratched at the back of his head. "Heh, sorry, Paige. This is Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Karai."

Paige nodded. "A pleasure."

"You're taking this whole 'Talking turtles' thing pretty well," Leonardo commented.

She shrugged. "Well, when you're a secret agent, you learn to put such things as being surprised last on your list of priorities. Plus, I've seen plenty of things, a lot much stranger than you, I can promise you that."

"Wait," said Raph, "so you were a spy?"

"For lack of a better term, yes. This is no place to talk about it, though. Come with me or stay here. I'm not waiting." She turned and resumed her journey to the parking lot.

Casey turned back to his friends, his eyes pleading. "Guys, seriously don't wait for her to get agro. She is _mad_ scary-Splinter ain't got nothin' on her!"

Karai rolled her eyes and emitted one final exasperated sigh before following. Her brothers eventually trailed behind her, Raphael's own steps very begrudging. Their trip to the parking area was silent, save for the rumbling of thunder and the promise of a slight shower. Upon reaching the van, they were thankful for the practically empty parking lot. Karai first made sure the coast was clear before signaling her brothers to join them in the light. Paige slid open the door to the van. The inside looked much roomier than the exterior let on.

"Right," Paige began, tossing her suitcase and brown trolley inside. "Just squeeze in there with all the groceries. And, Casey, where are your manners? Hold the door open for your friends."

The boy reluctantly did so, accepting sharp raps on the head from each of the turtles as they climbed into the van. Karai was the one exception; she punched him in the gut. Were he not used to physical confrontation, he would have crumpled to the ground. No sooner had Casey slid the door closed did the rain begin to pour.

Paige turned on her wipers. "Well, it's a good thing you kids decided on the ride. None of you had your bumbershoots. "

Leo scrunched up his face. "Our what?"

"_Bumbershoots_," Paige repeated as Casey climbed into the car and shut the door beside him. "You know, umbrellas?"

Casey buckled himself in out of pure instinct. He was forgetting something else about Paige; something that involved cars. He still couldn't recall, but he knew it was something important. He tried to remember but lost himself as he looked at the rain.

It was also raining the night his mom died…

* * *

_She'd watched the ten-year-old bolt out of the room when the heart monitor resounded the flat-line. At first she stayed by her deceased friend's side, unable to find the strength to move. Then she looked at her friend's sobbing mess of a husband at the other side of the room, and their four-year-old daughter sitting on the bed; the little girl plucked at her mother's hand, unable to fathom why her mother wasn't moving and much too young to understand what was happening. None of them had anticipated the untimely robbery at the convenience store; _she_ was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Paige steeled herself with a deep breath, wiped her face clean, and followed the boy out the door. She found him in the empty nursery; he was sitting on the floor by a rocking chair._

_"Are you alright, my darling?" Paige asked, a forced sweetness in her tone. _

_"Go away, Paige," Casey sniffed. _

_"Now, that's not a very polite way of asking someone to do something."_

_"I don't care! Go away!"_

_Paige sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. _He doesn't mean it_, she repeated to herself. She knew what he was feeling, having grieved over quite a few people herself. What she wished for the most through the loss, though, was that she had someone to cry with. An idea popped into her head. Being careful not to touch him, Paige seated herself beside Casey and let her own tears flow. She allowed herself her own selfish time to cry as the boy watched in uncomfortable silence._

_She smiled at him, dabbing at her eyes. "It's not fun watching someone you care about cry, is it?"_

_Casey shook his head, his own eyes still blurry with tears. "I hate the man that did this. I wish he was dead too."_

_The uncharacteristic hate in his tone broke Paige's heart. "Casey, your mum's partner caught the bad man. He'll be going to jail soon. He won't get away with what he's done, I promise you."_

_"Then I'll find him one day and shoot him too!"_

_"Bite your tongue, Casey Marie Jones. You mustn't let his get the better of you. If you did that, then that makes you just as bad as him." She tipped his chin up with a finger and looked him in the eye. "Your mum wouldn't want that."_

_It was like a dam burst. Tears streamed freely and shamelessly down the boy's face. He ran straight into her waiting arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he cried. "But I want _her_, Paige! I want my mom! I want her back!"_

_"I want her back, too." She held him close, surrounding him with all the warmth and love he would never again receive from his mother, even as tears continued to flow down her own face. She stood up from the floor and sat herself in the rocking chair. She realized some sleep would be of help to him. Rocking back and forth with her precious bundle nestled comfortably in her arms, she sang:_

_Would you know my name,_

_If I saw you in Heaven…_

_Would it be the same,_

_If I saw you in Heaven…_

_I must be strong_

_And carry on…_

_'Cause I know I don't belong_

_Here in Heaven…_

* * *

"Finally," Paige breathed, snapping Casey back to the present. The rain had ceased and they were now at the entrance to the Williamsburg bridge. "The road's clear."

Casey's eyes widened. He finally remembered. "The road's clear?" That only meant one thing. "Paige, wait-!"

It was too late. Paige's foot was flat on the gas pedal. The world zoomed past them as the unfortunate passengers were thrust back into their seats. The Hamato children held fast to their seats, their eyes wide more in surprise than worry; they'd been through aerial crashes and underwater collisions, a little reckless driving couldn't rattle them…much.

Casey, however, kept a death grip on Paige's coat sleeve, pure panic in his voice. "Holy-Paige, slow down!"

Without warning, Paige swerved to the right to avoid an overtaking truck. She rolled down her window, murderous intent in her eyes. "Watch it!" she roared in its direction. "I've got me bloody kids in the car!"

"Paige," Casey attempted to sooth. "Paige, just calm down. You know how you get when you drive angry."

"Oh, keep your delicates on, Jones," Paige insisted. "We'll be fine. Gah, yer jus like ya dad. Stop yer scrikin'."

"Your British is showing," Casey commented. "That's never a good sign."

Karai leaned in to whisper to her brothers. "Do you guys know what to make of this?" Their reply was a confused shake of the head.

"Oh, blast it," Paige swore as they approached another line of traffic. Casey let out a sigh of relief, his shaking fingers still fused to the armrest. Traffic moved at a snail's pace. They were nearing the exit of the bridge when a loud honk resounded from a few cars behind them. It came from an blue Audi, its driver shaking his arm irately in the air.

Paige watched the scene from her rear view mirror. "Well he certainly isn't the patient type, is he?" she commented. "Never knew the traffic here would be worse than in London."

"Welcome to New York," Casey said. "Just ignore him, and don't get involved."

"He can honk all he wants, it won't make a bloody difference."

"Exactly," Casey continued. "So, don't get involv-"

He was cut off by the loud repetitive bellows of a car horn. The Audi driver was losing his patience.

Paige shook her head. "Now that is downright rude!" She banged open the glove compartment.

Casey watched her, an anxious dread filling him. His fears were confirmed when Paige produced a large plastic cone. "Paige, no! Not the megaphone!"

Casey's cries fell on deaf ears as Paige rolled down her window and raised the cone to her lips."You there! You in that hideous Audi! Yes, you! Stop the honking!"

"Paige-Paige! Seriously! Don't antagonize 'im!"

Again, the Englishwoman didn't seem to hear him. "Enough with the vulgar hand- gestures! You may be ugly but that's no reason to _act_ ugly!"

"Paige, seriously! We're pinned in here!"

"Oh, tosh!" she retorted. "Civilization's not going to progress one iotar unless someone points out when someone's making a fool of himself."

"Move it!" the Audi driver yelled.

Something seemed to snap inside of Paige. She raised the megaphone to her lips again and at the top of her English lungs screamed: "Oh, shut your bloody cake-hole!"

Casey was now tugging desperately at her sleeve. "Paige, knock it off! You know how you get when you drive angry. Now I got all these awful childhood memories comin' back." A strangled chuckle from the back row caught Casey's attention and he looked into the rear view mirror. His friends were all flashing their own signature smirk; Karai pressed her fingers to her lips, her shoulders shaking like a paint mixer. "Guys, this isn't funny!"

"Oh, it's pretty funny from here," Donnie sniggered.

Leonardo nodded in agreement. He spoke in between laughs. "Casey, I gotta admit, we were pretty mad. But seeing how you're suffering right now, I think we can call it even."

"Hey, we're moving," Karai commented.

"Really?" Paige turned her attention back to the road. "At last!"

And so resumed Paige Higgins' road rampage. Casey closed his eyes and practically fixed himself into his seat, silently praying to every deity in existence not to take him too soon. The Hamato clan sat back and watched in almost sadistic delight. At some point, Donatello wished he'd brought a camera.

"We're in Williamsburg, Paige," Casey said, his eyes still squeezed shut. You can slow down!"

Paige rolled her eyes. "Casey, you're still not on about my driving, are you? A person can change after six years."

"Just park, Paige, please!"

"I already am parked, luv," she replied. "We're here."

Casey gingerly opened his eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief. They had parked in front of a nine-storey building along Kent avenue. The building was dark and appeared to be deserted, not a single window lit and no signs of life inside.

Paige unbuckled herself. "Right. Dismount. I live on the fourth."

"We'll go in through the fire escape," said Leo.

Paige turned to face him, brow furrowed. "You will not. That's barbaric. We'll go in through the front."

"In case you haven't noticed," Raph cut in, "we're not exactly easy on the eyes."

"Not to worry. I'm the only one who lives here."

Anticipating an question that she was in no mood to answer, Paige dismounted and quickly made for the front steps. She fished out her keys as she heard the car door slam closed. Opening the front door, she felt around the frame for the light switch. There was a loud click and the interior was lit. The children marveled at what they saw; boxes upon boxes were stacked on top of each other, leaving only a small pathway to walk through. Paige proceeded towards the flight of stairs at the end of the box-filled hallway. "Now," Paige began, "I haven't had the maintenance man fix the lift yet, so we'll have to use the stairs."

Casey and the Hamato siblings followed in a single compressed file; the turtles, with their wide shells, had a harder time. Upon reaching the stairway, they discovered boxes there as well.

"Stay close or you _will_ get lost," Paige instructed. "I moved in here four days ago, and I found one of the moving men just yesterday morning. The poor man was so thirsty."

The children stopped to stare at her, their faces contorted in pure confoundedness. Paige turned to them, smirking widely. "I'm joking."

She resumed the climb to the fourth floor, the children trailing behind, albeit more reluctant than before. Reaching the third floor, they discovered a couple of boxes had fallen from their stack and were blocking the way. Leonardo moved to shove them aside when Paige raised her hand, halting him. She moved her hand in a fluid motion and the boxes moved back to their place on the wall. She continued on her way as if nothing had just happened.

The children watched in awe, but it was Donatello who broke the silence. "Paige," he began, "Back at the park, what did you say you were again?"

"Well, I'm Anglo-Indian, that's something," she answered derisively. She looked back at him, discovering an irritated scowl on his face. "Oh. I'm a Papermaster. I can control paper as if it were an extension of myself."

"How's that work?" Raph asked.

"Well, it's genetic. Me grandfather was one."

"That's not what I meant."

"Right, here we are."

After what seemed like an eternity in the cardboard jungle, they finally reached the fourth floor and Paige welcomed them in. Paige's apartment looked quite homey despite the effort it took to get there. The entrance led to a large living room with four couches circled around a large coffee table. Adjacent to that was a small kitchen and dining room. The décor was modest, and conservative with only a few brightly-colored knick-knacks. There were still a few boxes strewn around but what stood out the most were the bookshelves; there was one on almost every wall in the apartment, each one lined with books of all sizes and thickness.

"Make yourselves at home," Paige said kindly, setting her large coat on the coat rack. "I'll get the kettle on."

"Umm, thank you, Paige," Leo said. "But I think the tea will have to wait."

"I suppose you're right," Paige sighed.

A picture on the mantelpiece caught Casey's attention. Looking closely, he realized it was a picture of his family when he was nine years old. They were at the beach on a bright and sunny day; his father was carrying his baby sister while his mother had hers arms around his shoulders. Big bright smiles dominated each of their faces. Casey carefully picked up the frame, stroking it fondly with his thumb.

"What the heck was in all those boxes?" Raphael wondered aloud.

"Yeah," Leonardo cut in. "Although, it smelled familiar. Like mildew or wet wood, or-"

"Paper," Paige answered, smiling proudly. "Every single box we've walked past is full of books. This entire building is my own personal bookshelf."

"Whoah!" came from Donatello, catching everyone's attention. His eyes were fixated on a large hard-cover book on one of the many shelves. "You have this book?"

Paige smiled. She sensed a kindred spirit. "Yes. You're welcome to read it."

Donnie resisted the urge to hop around the room in glee. "Thank you!"

"Leave it to Donnie to geek-out at times like this," Raph commented.

Paige's brown eyes widened in surprise. "Donnie? Your name is Donnie?"

The purple-banded turtle looked up from the book. "It's my nickname. Why?"

Her reply was a warm and nostalgia-ridden smile. "An old friend of mine was named Donny, is all."

"Someone from the British Library?" Leo asked.

"Yes," she replied. He smile dissipated as she remembered what she owed them. "I suppose you all want that explanation now, yes?"

She gestured to the couches in the living room. The turtles planted themselves on the comfortable seat while Karai and Casey sat on the armchairs at opposite ends. Paige seated herself on the couch in front of them.

"Where to begin?" Paige wondered, smoothing out the folds of her dress.

"Well, for starters," Casey began. "You said back at the park that I may've already heard some things about you. I didn't really hear anything. I just saw a picture of you with the British Library…What did you mean?"

"I meant…that in my time as a secret agent, I may have done certain unsavory things to accomplish my missions. That includes obtaining and keeping a double-o certificate."

"Double-o certificate?"

"It's a license to kill," she said plainly. "But, that's not important. I have other explanations I owe you. So, questions?"

Leo cleared his throat. "Yeah…what can you tell us about William Bishop?"

Paige raised an eyebrow but there came an unmistakable gloom in her eyes when she heard the name. "Why? What's he done to you, exactly?"

Karai held up a hand. "Our question first."

Paige was silent for a moment, her eyes closed and her head slightly bowed. "Agent William Bishop is a monster," she finally said. She then took a deep breath, composing herself. "And I used to work with him…I was his assistant." Wordlessly, she stood up, made her way to the bookshelf behind the couch, and selected a thick brown folder. She sat back down on the couch, setting the folder on her lap. "Before the British Library fell, I was asked to draft a report that detailed the actions of the Medical Division. I never got to submit it. You five are the only ones in existence who will ever get to hear this."

She opened the folder and began to read aloud: "The British Library Special operations Unit, Medical Division. The Gentleman Renewal Plan. Progress Report Version Five by Special Agent Padma Higgins.

"Listen up, you lot."

* * *

**Author's Note and References:**

The song I used in the flashback is called Tears In Heaven. It was written and sung by Eric Clapton. It's a sad song, made especially for people who have lost someone. Paige has a special attachment to that song, I will not give you all the reason why just yet.

*Papermaster \- a person with the superhuman ability to control and bend paper-material to their will, turning it into anything from a useful everyday tool to a deadly weapon. This type of superhuman is unique to the Read or Die franchise, please see below.

*Read Or Die \- a Japanese light novel, manga, and anime franchise with an action-packed spy and fantasy theme. Think James Bond meets X-Men.

(Wikipedia) _Read or Die_ takes place in an alternate history world where the British Empire has remained a major superpower. The Empire's continued existence is guaranteed by the British Library, an external intelligence agency working within the actual British Library and its Special Operations Division. The series follows Yomiko Readman, also known as "The Paper", a superhuman agent of the Library's Special Operations Unit. (Wikipedia)

*Donnie and Paige \- you'll notice Paige's fondness for the name "Donnie". This is a reference to a canon character for the Read Or Die (ROD) franchise, Donny Nakajima. He was an expert PaperMaster and the romantic interest of the ROD protagonist until his mysterious death some time in the series. In this case, Donny Nakajima was Paige's good friend, predecessor, and mentor.

*A Building Full Of Books \- this is another little nod to the ROD franchise. The protagonist of Read Or Die also lives in a building full of books. Also, Papermasters are natural bibliophiles, so it is only natural that Paige would want to surround herself with books.

You are all very welcome to do your own little Google t-rex-hand search and find out more about the ROD franchise but I strongly suggest that you guys put it off until you finish the next chapter. Less spoilers that way.

Really truly very very sorry that this chapter took so long. The last four just kinda flowed outta me and that's why I got to update so fast. With this one however, although I had the start and the end worked out, the muse needed a little more poking and prodding. At some point I was even threatening to drop her from an imaginary cliff. Not to mention I'm in the middle of my culinary school internship. Still, I apologize for the long wait.

*beautyandharmony - thanks so much! And, yes, I always trying to give a movie/show feel to this fic. You guys aren't just my readers, you are my audience. And it's an honor to work my ass off for all of you.

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing.

P.S. When Paige tells you to listen, you _have_ to listen. And carefully.


	8. Progress Report Version Five

**Chapter Eight: Progress Report Version Five**

"The British Library Special operations Unit, Medical Division. The Gentleman Renewal Plan. Progress Report Version Five by Agent Padma Higgins, codename Agent Paper the 20th.

"It was in the early 1930's that Mr. Gentleman, the father of Great Britain, and the most powerful man in all the world, first began to show signs of biological ageing. When the first changes to his hair and skin were observed, a task force was organized to discover a way to counter his ageing. This team looked to the Far East for answers, delving into mysticism, pharmaceutical, and traditional Chinese medicine. This caused much friction between the Western world and the Eastern world, eventually leading to an all-out underground war. These conflicts were highly secretive, often involving our _super-powered agents_.

"By the late 1980's Mr. Gentleman was unable to walk unassisted, and the task force had all but abandoned their initial plans to medically prolong his life and instead began to seek other ways of preserving him. The state of the United Kingdom, with its leader in no shape to guide it, was also beginning to suffer. Our future was looking grim…This was until the emergence of Special Ops Agent, virus engineer, genetics genius, and medical prodigy Agent William Nayar Bishop."

Paige stopped to clear her throat and pulled out a single sheet of brown paper from the folder. "Here's a brief biography I'd done on him for the report: Born in Kerala in 1967, Bishop is the only son of Welsh doctor Johann Bishop and Indian nurse Priya Nayar. He attended primary education in Kerala and secondary education in England. He graduated from the University of Edinburgh Medical School at only 15 years of age. In 1986, at the age of 19, Bishop was recruited by the British Library Special Operations Unit, eventually founding the Medical Division a year later. He was appointed head of the Division that same year.

"Now, back to the report: Bishop had developed a virus that not only halted Mr. Gentleman's ageing, but also restored him to a capable state of being. In just a short time, he will be able to lead the Empire once again. Bishop is now hailed as a national hero and with him at the helm, genetic research, bio-technological advances, and cloning technology are all but flourishing. Now all that is left is safeguarding our assets. That duty falls to the entirety of the British Library, who bear that responsibility with pride. It now safe to say that we can once again dream of Britain's glory reborn."

Paige closed the folder and set it down on the coffee table. "That's the end of the report, but that story is far from over. The pressure from the project made an impact on Doctor Bishop that was…less than desirable. Over the months, I had noticed that his mind was not…He was slipping. He skipped meals, he would lash out at his colleagues, he would refuse to leave his laboratory. Every department was involved in the race against Mr. Gentleman's ageing, but it was the Medical Division who took the brunt of that blow…and Doctor Bishop, being its head, just could not cope.

"Finally in the year 1992, in an event that's now known as 'The Incident', spies from one of our rival organizations had managed to infiltrate the British Library and made short work of us from the inside. They laid waste to _everything_…including poor Mr. Gentleman. The damage received was irreparable and many of our staff members were either killed, crippled, or went missing. Needless to say, that was the end of the British Library."

"But that article said that the Library shut down because of bankruptcy," Donatello commented. "They never told the public the truth?"

Paige shook her head. "British pride. And without a man at the helm, a ship can only ride the waves. When the Library fell, so did the British Empire. The UK hasn't been the same since then. Our reputation in the EU suffered and we were expelled from the UN. Those are some of the reasons why I decided to move here to the States."

"So," Leo began, "how did you manage to escape it?"

"It wasn't just me. Doctor Bishop and I were in a lesser branch of the Library at the time, so we were spared from the Incident. As soon as I'd hear of it, I decided to do the smart thing and left the organization, erasing every piece of information they had of me. I tried to urge Dr. Bishop to do the same, but he would have none of it…By then, he'd already become a man obsessed. Finally, one day, he…chased me out of his lab. The day I left was the last day I ever saw him. I'd only heard a year later that he died."

Karai narrowed her eyes. "But he's not dead, is he?"

"Judging from your happy expressions, I can assume he's not. I'm not surprised, though. For all his insanity, he was a very bright man still. Might I ask what Dr. Bishop has done to earn your contempt?"

"He's been working with our enemy, the Shredder," Raph answered. "Heard of him?"

"Yes, I have one in my office," she answered flatly. The room was quiet save for the strangled laughs from Casey and Karai. "No, Raphael. I'm not familiar with him."

"Well," Raph continued, "Just yesterday, he tried to kidnap two of us."

Paige's gaze drifted downward. "So he _is_ here in this country."

Raph's eyes narrowed. "Wait. You _know_ he's here? At the same time _you're_ here?"

Paige shrugged. "Purely coincidental. Don't look so distrustful. If I still worked for Bishop I'd have captured you and sent you to him _hours_ ago."

"What's he want with us?" Leo asked.

She was about to answer the question when she noticed the thoughtful look on Donatello's face. "I think one of you has already answered that."

"So," Donnie began. "Whatever Bishop wants with us has something to do with bringing back Mr. Gentleman?"

"Highly probable," Paige agreed. "The four of you posses a unique physiology…and most importantly, the _mutagen_ in your blood. Yes, Casey and Karai told me about it while you were hiding in the trees back at the park. If I weren't retired, I'd be fascinated."

"But Shredder has a handful of mutated humans in his employ," Leo argued. "Why can't he just use their blood?"

Paige fingered a single lock of her golden hair in thought. "I don't know if any of you keep up with the news, but scientists have just recently discovered the effects of reptile blood on the human immune system. As we speak, it's being used in the research on gene therapy and viral diseases. Of which-"

Donnie finished for her, waving one green finger in the air. "Of which, Bishop is an expert!"

Where others might have been offended, Paige smiled in amusement. "Exactly. I can see why you're the smart one." Her last comment had the genius turtle blushing. "That's probably why Bishop needs your blood _specifically_."

Raphael, as usual, stayed skeptical. "But Shredder has his own resident scientist. Baxter Stockman. Why can't Bishop just work with him and come up with another solution?"

Paige shook her head. "If there was anything I'd learned from years of working with Doctor Bishop, it's that _he_ doesn't work well with _others_."

"I still don't think you're telling us the whole story," Raph said.

"Every word I'd just told you was true. And I have no reason to lie. Do you know why that is?"

"Why?"

"Because all I want now is a normal life." She looked each one of them in the eye. "I'm _sure_ all of _you_ can understand that."

Leo gave one solemn nod. "Fair enough," he agreed.

Paige leaned back in her seat. "Now, Casey, I believe it's time for your explanation."

Despite the constant interruptions from his friends, Casey successfully managed to relay the events of his meeting with the Hamato family, leaving only a few things out. Mainly, his whole lone-hero-vigilante act; he knew Paige would lose her hair over that tidbit of information. What she doesn't know won't hurt him. "…and that's how we ended up here," he finished.

"…I see," Paige said after an uncomfortably long response-less silence. Her head bobbed up and down in slow nods as she tried to process what she'd just heard. "Ninja…mutant…turtle…teenagers?"

"Well," said Donnie, "when you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous."

"And aliens?" Paige continued. "Giant mutated animals…robots…ghosts." She stood up and headed for the kitchen in a brisk walk. "I think I'll be needing that tea _now_."

Karai decided to follow. "I'll help you."

"Me too," Casey added.

"Thank you, dears. The rest of you, just make yourselves at home."

Donatello wasted no time in returning to his book. Raphael leaned back in his seat and proceed to send a text to Michelangelo back at the lair. Leonardo wandered around the den for a minute, eventually discovering, to his glee, a room full of Indian weapons displayed on the walls. Paige instructed Casey and Karai to boil water and prepare a plate of tea biscuits while she searched for a tea set in the next room. The boy hadn't failed to notice the icy treatment he was getting from the kunoichi as he opened a bag of biscuits.

"Look, Karai," Casey began. "I know you're mad…and I guess I kinda deserve it, but I had to give Paige that second chance. And I'm glad I did. Now we're one step ahead o' Bishop. That's gotta count for something, doesn't it? You can't stay mad, can ya?"

Karai pursed her lips, still impassive. "It's fine, Casey."

Casey let out a nervous laugh. "Really? Wow, I figured you'd be mad."

She nodded. "Oh, I was, but I can let things go, can't I?"

"Great. So we're cool, right?"

Her response was a swift, unavoidable, firm but held-back knee to the batteries. The boy crumpled to the ground, his hands cradling the smarting area between his legs. "Now we're cool." She let out a contented sigh, smiling. "I'm happy now. You happy?"

"As a clam," he said, a few octaves higher than normal.

Paige walked into the kitchen, a tray with her favorite English tea set nestled in her hands. "Here, we are. What's wrong with Casey?"

Karai took the tea set from Paige and proceeded to prepare tea while the Englishwoman bent down to look over Casey. "He slipped," Karai answered casually. "Landed crotch-first onto the counter."

The three of them emerged from the kitchen after a while, Casey still walking a little less enthusiastically. Leonardo didn't fail to notice the little lack of spring in his human friend's step. "What happened to you?" he asked, but the boy was too choked up to answer. He decided to drop the matter. "So, Paige. I found that cool weapons room."

She set the tray down on the coffee table and proceeded to pour each of them a cup. "Oh, found the family treasure, did you? Those are all antique, handed down from generation to generation. Me family owned a Kalari school back in India."

Leonardo raised an eyebrow. "Kalari?"

"It's a martial arts school," she answered, handing him and each of his siblings a steaming cup of tea. "You see, I spent my childhood in Kerala. That's in the South of India. It's the birthplace of Kalaripayattu-the world's most ancient martial art."

"Is that what you used on us back at the park?" Raph asked, a contempt-full glint his eye.

"Yes, and if you feel like getting a bit more cheeky, you're welcome to pay for everyone's tea." She flashed him a broad and derisive smile.

"Sorry about him," Leo offered. "He has…issues." His red-banded brother shot him a heated look from behind his cup.

Casey sat himself beside Paige and cocked his head at her. "Not nearly as much as this one with her driving."

"Oh, give over, Jones," Paige said, rolling her eyes. "You were never late to anything, were you not?"

"Yeah, but you never had to rush during family road trips." He turned back to his friends to speak to them. "You know, I was thirteen when I realized that cows aren't blurry."

Karai cocked an eyebrow. "Don't throw stones, Casey. We've seen the way _you_ drive."

So the time passed as the Hamatos got to know their hostess, reveling in her embarrassing stories of Casey's childhood. They even exchanged family stories. At some point, Paige reached into the drawer of the lamp desk beside her and produced a single photograph. "I found this picture of us," she said, handing it to Casey. It was a picture of Casey's first hockey victory; his family and Paige had gathered around him, proud smiles dominating their faces.

Casey was so lost in the nostalgia that he hadn't noticed his friends gathering around him. "Wow," said Leo, " you look nothing like your dad, Casey."

Paige sipped the last of her tea. "That's because he's half Greek. He gets his looks from his mum." A thoughtful look crossed her face. She opened the drawer again and rifled through the contents. "In fact…Here she is-_Antonia_-me partner in crime." She held out an old photo. In it were her and another woman in front of what looked to be New York University. The other woman was beautiful; elegant waves of black hair framed her white and spotless face, her wide brown eyes twinkled in the sunlight.

"She's beautiful," Karai commented. She then noticed the state of Paige's hands; they were nearly covered in thin and fine scars. Well, she supposed that one couldn't call themselves a Papermaster without a few papercuts.

Looking at the photo, Casey quietly realized something. His family must be even more broken with him out of the picture. He remembered how much his dad missed his mom even years after her death. What was he doing now? Were his own selfish reasons worth staying away from them any longer than he already has? Deciding to find out, Casey excused himself and went off to find a quiet spot.

Paige smiled warmly as she watched him scurry off to the library; Casey had his cell phone out. She knew what he was up to. With Leonardo's help, she cleared the dishes and returned them to the kitchen. He offered to soak them as Paige went off to the bathroom to retrieve something.

* * *

Casey steeled himself with one last thought of the photo. He thought about how happy they once were. One stupid fight shouldn't be enough to change that. He owed it to his mother, if not himself…

Finally, the other side picked up and a male voice spoke. "Hello?"

Casey drew a deep breath. "Hi, dad…"

* * *

Paige returned to the kitchen to see Leonardo had finished cleaning. She carried a brown bag in one hand and a bottle of iodine in another. "Here, Leonardo," she said, handing him the brown bag. "This is for your youngest brother. Karai told me earlier he's been a bit under the weather."

Leo was somewhat hesitant as he took the bag. "Thank you, Paige."

"Think nothing of it. There's enough left over in there for the next time any of you get sick…and besides, I'm grateful to you and your family."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Casey certainly has changed for the better. I noticed it the second a saw him…for the first time in six years. I can't help but think that you've all been a good influence on him. The medicine is the least I could offer you."

Leonardo felt a familiar warmth spread through him, one that he usually got whenever his father would express his pride in him. "Thank you, Paige. It's more than enough." Out of habit, he bowed lowly.

Paige responded with a kind smile, then she put her hands together with the fingers pointing up, and bowed to him.

* * *

"I'm comin' home tomorrow morning," Casey told his father, "…Yeah, Paige'll take me…Yeah, sure we can bring breakfast…Okay. Talk to you later, dad."

Paige walked into the library just as Casey hung up. "So? How's your dad and your sister?"

Casey offered a crooked smile. "They're okay."

"You patched things up?"

"Yeah…and, he says that the reason he made such a big deal about me going to college…was because _he_ never got to go. He put his NHL career first."

Paige nodded. Then another thought crossed her mind. It was a good thing he had his friends to help him through all of this. She was very thankful. "You truly love these friends of yours, don't you?"

Casey just about choked on his own spit. "_Love_?!"

She reached over to pat him roughly on the back. "I'll win them over yet, Casey," she told him confidently before returning to the den.

Casey didn't know exactly what to feel. He realized Paige's observant nature hadn't changed. Neither had her habit of inserting herself into his life and the lives of everyone around him; he knew that she did it out of love but he would have a talk with her about how it wasn't always appreciated. Or appropriate. Still, it could wait. For now he was content. For now, he had a family again. As complete as it ever was.

He walked back into the den. Raphael and Leonardo were lounging lazily on the couch. Donatello was sitting on the opposite couch with Paige. She was applying iodine to his hand. "Your poor hand," Paige said to her reluctant patient.

"It's fine, Paige," said Donatello.

"No," she insisted. "I should have made that disk duller before I threw it. I truly am sorry, all of you."

The Hamato family insisted on their being no apologies necessary. Casey sat in the arm chair opposite Karai. "Hey," he greeted. The kunoichi gave the slightest nod. "So. Great news. My dad and I finally patched things up."

"That's great," she said. Leo quietly agreed while Raph still refused to look at him.

Paige had finally finished bandaging Donnie's hand. "There. Should I look over the rest of you? See if there are any lasting injuries?"

The children seemed to recoil into their seats in response-particularly the boys.

"Oh, there's no need to be embarrassed with me," she reassured. "I've worked in healthcare, I've seen it all. Especially from Casey."

The boy paled. "Paige," he began warningly.

She didn't seem to notice the message in his tone. "I've seen his bits."

"PAIGE!"

He was cut off by a loud jingle coming from Raph's T-phone. "Guys, father wants us home. Preferably now."

Leo stood up. "Tell him we're on our way. Thank you for your hospitality, Paige." He gave her another solemn bow; Karai and Donnie stood up and repeated the gesture.

"Yeah, thanks," said Donnie.

"Don't mention it," said Paige.

Leo looked at his hotheaded brother, expecting him to remember his manners. When there was no response, Leo gave him a swift elbow to the ribs. Raphael sighed and uncrossed his arms. "Sorry…for attacking you."

This time, she gave him an honest and appreciative smile. "It's alright, young man."

"We should get going," said Karai as she made her way to the door. "Casey?"

"I'm staying the night," the boy answered and Paige wondered when she made that offer.

"If we go by foot," Donnie began. "We probably won't get home till midnight."

Paige stood from her seat. "Oh, that won't be necessary. I can drive you four-"

"NO!" was the unanimous decision.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I hope you all managed to notice the little 2014 movie reference. *wink*

In this chapter, I really wanted Paige to be someone who earned her way into the franchise and most importantly into the boys' lives. I hope you guys managed to pick up on that. I didn't want to be like "here's my OC, now love her."

So that there's no confusion in reference to dates, this story is set in 2012, the initial timeline of the series.

*The second paragraph from Paige's report was actual script from the 14th episode of Read Or Die, with some choice tweaking, to incorporate my story of course.

**William Nayar Bishop** \- yes, in the 2003 series, he was known as John Bishop. In my AU, however he is named William Bishop. And he's British. You Bishop fangirls can go ahead and imagine his sexy-ass voice with a bonus English accent *wink*. Also here Bishop is, like Paige, an Anglo-Indian (half-British-half-Indian). His last name is supposedly a common surname in Southern India, as my research tells me.

Heads up, the next chapter will be a filler, of sorts.


	9. Presidential Appeal&Elevator Conspiracy

**Chapter Nine: Presidential Appeal and The Elevator Conspiracy**

"Mister President," Michelangelo began. "If we don't give turkeys the right to vote, they'll riot. And then _turkeys'll_ be in congress…and _we'll_ be the ones they serve at Thanksgiving Dinner with yams and cranberry jelly!" The ailing turtle made to sit up and grab the "President" by the collar in order to shake some sense into him; the Turkey Uprising just _had_ to be stopped!

Donatello simply pushed Mikey back down to the pillows by his forehead. "Don't worry, Mikey," he soothed. "It won't come to that. We'll settle everything _democratically_." Turning to his father, Donatello added: "Sensei, it's a good thing you called."

Splinter, who was standing by the foot of the bed, watched as Donatello produced various bottles and pills from the brown bag he'd brought upon their return. The rat had breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he heard of their medical acquisition; over the course of the day, his youngest son's fever had gone from bad to worse. Watching his poor baby shiver violently even under three blankets reminded Splinter of the first time he'd nearly lost him to illness. He shuddered; he hoped to never feel so helpless again. He would fight an armada to keep his children safe only to watch them suffer at the hands of an evil microscopic speck.

Donatello popped a few pills into Mikey's mouth before putting a glass of water up to his lips. "Just drink this, Mikey," he instructed. "You'll feel better in no time." Michelangelo did as he was told and flopped back down. He was asleep in mere seconds.

With one last look at his youngest son to settle his nerves, Splinter exited the room. Leonardo, Raphael, and Karai were waiting for him in the den. He motioned for them to follow him into the dojo. "Tell me more about what happened tonight, Leonardo."

Once inside the dojo, Leonardo sat down before his sensei, his siblings following his lead beside him. He then proceeded to explain the events of their mission, enduring a few interruptions and strong opinions from Raphael. "She did work for Bishop, sensei," Leo confirmed.

"She's our only reliable source of information," Karai added. "We could use her to defeat Bishop."

"I'm not sure if Paige would be for that, Karai," said Leonardo. "She didn't really seem like she'd want anything to do with him."

"So you _don't_ think she'll help us?" Karai asked.

"Listen to you guys," said Raphael spitefully. "Talking as if we can actually trust her. Don't you find it just a little bit strange that she's in the country at the same time Bishop is?"

Leo stroke his chin in thought. "True. But if she still worked for him, don't you think something might have happened by now? Sensei, what do you think?"

"I have told you before, Leonardo," said the rat. "You must learn to trust your instincts."

"I trust my instincts, but can we trust _her_?"

"What do _you_ believe, my son?" was Splinter's answer.

"Well…right now, I think we can consider her neutral. We should just work out a plan to defeat Bishop using what we know…for now." He looked to Karai and Raphael to gauge their opinions. Karai gave one solemn nod in agreement. Raphael huffed and rolled his eyes.

"It is settled, then." Splinter turned and headed for his room, his children bowing in his wake. "It is late, and you are all tired. We should all sleep."

Karai was the first to leave the dojo, yawning on her way to her room. Leonardo was on his way out when he felt a rough hand grip his shoulder, stopping him. He turned his head.

Raphael looked him in the eye. "Paige is hiding something, Leo…I just know it."

* * *

No sooner did the Hamato children leave the apartment did Paige realize she had nothing planned for dinner. Casey was quick to suggest a Mexican restaurant only a few blocks from her building. Paige was hesitant, having no love for Mexican food, but Casey had a look in his eye that reminded her of a puppy that just spotted a huge milk bone. Unable to resist those pleading coffee eyes, Paige donned her coat and the two were out the door.

Not twenty minutes later, they reached the building. Casey mentioned that the restaurant was located on the fifteenth floor. They entered and made for the elevator.

"What kind of restaurant is located on any floor but the first?" Paige wondered as Casey punched the numbers on the panel.

"The best kind," Casey answered. "Keeps all the lame people out." The doors shut closed and they began their climb.

They had reached the third floor when the doors slid open to admit a woman. She punched in her desired floor and stood to face the door, her back to them. Paige and Casey exchanged mischievous looks as the doors shut. A silent understanding passed between them. It's been far too long since they'd played this-they're favorite prank. They called it the Elevator Conspiracy Game.

"So," Casey began, just loud enough for the woman to overhear him but also enough to make it seem like he was whispering, "how'd you get the stuff through Customs?"

Paige chuckled. "They'd never think to check a wooden leg."

The woman in front of them didn't move but they could sense the look of curiosity on her face.

Casey nodded. "O' course, o' course…Now I'm startin' to worry about Vince."

"Well, _don't_ worry," Paige assured. "As long as we're back downstairs in twenty minutes, he shouldn't suffocate."

Another beep and the lift had reached the sixth floor. The doors opened and the woman couldn't seem to get herself out of the elevator fast enough. She bolted in a random direction, determined to get as far away from them as her legs could take her.

As soon as the doors closed again, Casey and Paige doubled over, laughing like hyenas.

"Oh Cholula! I missed doing that!" Casey declared.

"Oh, me too," said Paige, dabbing at her tearing eyes. "But we really mustn't do that-it's not nice."

"Alright," Casey agreed begrudgingly.

A beep resounded as they reached the ninth floor. The doors slid open to admit a middle-aged man. Again, their fellow passenger stood with their back to them. Casey gave Paige a pleading look as if to say: "Just one last time?"

Paige sighed, a defeated smile on her face. Sometimes, she really couldn't say no to him. She cleared her throat. "Stop fidgeting," she said in a mocked reprimanding tone. "No one will recognize you after all that plastic surgery."

Casey's tone was laced with fake distress. "I can stop fidgeting but I don't think I can stop worrying."

"You will once we get to Canada."

The man turned his head ever so slightly, avoiding eye contact, but the two could already gauge the nervous look on his face.

"I just don't want to see any more bloodshed," Casey continued.

"Relax," Paige insisted. "You're in the clear."

A fake shiver could be heard in Casey's voice as he said: "You don't know the BuzzKill and his ways."

The doors slid open to the fourteenth floor. Again, their fellow occupant wasted no time in exiting the elevator as soon as the doors opened. As the man trotted away in a quiet but panicked huff, Casey had to hold onto the handrail to keep from falling to his knees in laughter.

Paige braced her hands on her knees as she joined him, laughing shamelessly. She hugged her gut, feeling it about to bust any minute. "We're terrible!"

"I know!"

"Oh, but you Yanks are so gullible!"

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

May I begin by saying that this chapter literally did not exist until a day ago? This was not the original ninth chapter. I was originally just gonna breeze over Mikey's recovery (or rather, not mention anything at all) until an idea came to me from a review made by Andromakhe, who is awesome, by the way. In fact, a lot of these chapters either didn't exist or went a completely different direction until I gave them a second look.

Just goes to show you, when you live an artistic life, your first idea isn't necessarily your best.

Besides, this chapter was supposed to be a filler anyway, so I decided to play with it and knew it wouldn't effect the story in any way.

The Elevator Conspiracy Game was inspired by a scene from an episode from one of my favorite sitcoms: Frasier (the character Daphne Moon is actually the inspiration for Paige). The object is to improvise a continuous dialogue aimed at scaring the person who overhears. I haven't tried it with any of my friends yet, but it seemed too downright funny not incorporate into the story.

Hope you guys enjoyed and there's more fun to be had in the next chapter. Till next time!


	10. Judge Karai Presiding

**Chapter Ten: Judge Karai Presiding **

Closing time at Murakami's.

Fewer words could be so sweet. It was a time when the restaurant was empty, leftovers were still warm, and teenaged mutant ninja turtles could wander around without restraint. One such example could be Michelangelo as he danced a culinary jig behind the counter, his hands a blur over the many spices. Two days had passed and he'd made a speedy recovery, just enough to finally be allowed to leave the lair and spend some quality time with his siblings.

Today, he decided to be a chef. Karai sat opposite him at the counter and watched with a bored expression, her face propped up in her hands. Finally, Mikey produced a large bowl of multicolored popcorn. Karai immediately knew that this would not end well.

"I've finally done it," Mikey said proudly. "With just a dash of cumin, I think I've finally created the perfect Monster Movie Marathon Mix."

"Shouldn't you be taking it easy, Mikey?" asked Karai.

"Come on," he pleaded, "just try one?"

Karai sighed and tentatively popped one piece into her mouth as Mikey did the same. Almost instantly, their faces scrunched up in reference to the confusing tempest swirling in their mouths.

"This must be what bad breath tastes like," said Karai.

Mikey forced himself to swallow. "Maybe the cloves were a bad idea."

"I think the _whole_ idea was a bad idea," she said as Mikey took the bowl and made his way to the trash can at the far corner of the restaurant. "Buttered popcorn is as good as popcorn is ever gonna get, Mikey."

The doors swung open, bringing with them the drafty evening air. Karai turned round to see Leonardo and Donatello entering the diner, their faces twisted in miserable frowns. They were hunched over as thought they'd just finished dragging a plow.

Karai cocked an eyebrow. "Who died?" she asked, noticing their not-so-happy expressions.

Instead of answering, the two brother pointed at the door behind them with their thumbs. As if on cue, Raphael and Casey entered. The two were engaged in a fierce shouting match and the peaceful quiet of the diner turned into a happy memory. Casey had a small plastic bag in his hand and waved it around to emphasize his argument.

"Try listening to that for four hours straight," said Leo. He sat down next to Karai while Donnie sat at her other side.

"I've seen reality show catfights with more dignity than this," Donnie commented.

The volatile argument continued. Raph and Casey were in each other's faces, teeth bared, veins bulging and spittle flying everywhere.

"Who'd bother picking a fight with Raph anyway?" Leonardo wondered aloud. "They'd never get the last word in."

Karai and Donnie exchanged looks of pure confusion. Did Leo seriously just ask that question?

"Donnie, are we in the Twilight Zone?" she whispered, but received a clueless shrug.

"Raph, you're being a baby-!"

"Oh look who's talking, _Casey Marie_-!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Somebody's cranky, maybe they need a nap!"

"Hey, Leo, Donnie, and Karai forgave me. Why _the_ _heck_ can't _you_?"

"It's not that simple..."

Karai grabbed the meat mallet off the counter and headed for them. "What are you two squabbling about?" she demanded.

The two of them pointed fingers, their arguments fighting for dominance.

Karai finally lost her patience. She banged the meat mallet on the small table in front of them. "Order in the food court!" Casey and Raphael immediately shut their mouths, glaring at each other. Karai cleared her throat. "Now, if you want me to help, you'll have to speak one at a time, _slowly_ and _clearly_ because I'm not fluent in Fool. Hamato Raphael, what is your story?"

"Oh, drop it, Karai," Raphael huffed.

Karai pursed her lips. "Raphael wants to drop it. Is there a second? None heard. The motion fails." She banged her makeshift gavel once before continuing, "Back to the question. Raphael, what is your major malfunction?"

Raphael sighed. "If you must know, your honor-which you already do-Flakey Jones here didn't stick to the plan we spent hours on! He put us all in danger because he was too friggin' sentimental."

"I see," said Karai. She turned to the human boy. "Casey Marie Jones-pfft!" She had to pause and gather herself after her failure at suppressing a laugh. "What is _your_ story?"

"You already know it, your honor. And besides, you told me to give Paige a second chance if I thought it would be a good idea."

"Silence!" Karai exclaimed, slapping his shoulder. "The judge is _neutral_ ground."

"Ha Ha," Raphael taunted. "You got yelled at." He received his own rap on the shoulder.

"Who told you to speak?" Karai demanded. "This is the Peons' Court and I demand full R. E. S. P. E. C. T. I'm the boss, applesauce."

"You've been hangin' around Mikey too much," Raph and Casey said simultaneously.

"Dudes, and dudettes, chill for a second." Michelangelo cut in, walking over to them. "I think I know what's going on here."

Raph raised an eyebrow. "The same way you knew that the Easter Bunny was out to get you?"

"Hey, don't start that, you're gonna give me nightmares. And…I think you're just jealous, Raph."

"What?!"

Mikey only nodded; never mind his brother looking about ready to kill him for even suggesting such a thing. "Yeah. Casey's always been _your_ buddy and now he's got someone who he trusts as much as you. It's gotta be pretty rough on you, huh?"

Raphael stammered, the words dying in his mouth. "That is-Why would you-I don't-You are-I can't even finish a thought! Mikey, that's ridiculous!"

"Uh huh. If I'm being ridiculous, than you're being a hypothalamus."

"Hypocrite!" Donnie corrected.

"Yeah, that too," Mikey agreed.

Raphael crossed his arms. "How am I being a hypocrite?"

"Remember that night we were having Perchan food?" Mikey asked.

"_Persian_," Donnie corrected again.

"D, I got this," Mikey assured. "You asked me what I would do if a good friend of mine came to me with suitcase full of dead body? You told me later that night that you'd hear him out and do whatever you could to help 'im." He gestured to Casey. "Well, Paige is kinda like _Casey's_ suitcase."

Casey and Karai scrunched up their faces.

Mikey continued. "And now you're treating him like this. Doesn't really seem right to me, Raph."

"Mikey," Raph began. "Could you do me a favor? Could you stick your head in the nearest fish tank and take a deep breath?"

Karai smacked the back of his head. "None of that in my courtroom," she scolded.

Mikey continued. "The point is: you guys are bros. And what do bros do? They forgive each other and eat pizza. Can we do that now?"

Casey actually looked to be considering his words. Raph narrowed his eyes. "Mikey, go take a hike," he told his brother.

Mikey shrugged. "Well then maybe I was right the first time and you were just jealous. You-"

Raphael cut him off, clamping his hand over his mouth. He wanted this to end even if it cost him a little face. "Mikey, if I forgive Casey, will you shut up?"

The orange-banded turtle nodded.

"Fine," Raph breathed.

"There you have it," Karai told them, pointing the mallet at Raphael and then Casey. "You're _both_ guilty. Now say you're sorry!"

"Sorry," they both said half-heartedly.

The kunoichi cleared her throat. "The fine for wasting my time…is that plate of pizza gyouza that Murakami-san made for you. Dismissed." She banged her mallet one final time before making her way back to the counter, wondering what this family would do without her. She shared a loud high-five with Leonardo before sitting back down at the counter. Mikey took his place behind the counter to resume his culinary endeavors, humming a jolly tune.

"Karai," Donnie began, "did Mikey just have a moment?"

The girl blinked, surprised and confused at the sudden realization. "Yeah…I think he did."

Donnie placed a shaking hand on his sister's shoulder. "I think we _are_ in the Twilight Zone."

* * *

Raphael and Casey sat down across each other at one of the smaller tables. The red-banded turtle drummed his fingers on the table. "So," he began awkwardly, "…what's uh…what's in the bag? I never got to ask you."

Casey had completely forgotten the bag in his hand. "Oh. Just something I picked up for Paige." He pretended not to notice the way Raph rolled his eyes at the mere mention of the name. He reached in and produced a small jar containing a strange red mush. "It's mashed up chili pepper. Carolina Reaper, it says. It's, like, the hottest pepper in the world."

The turtle cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Dare you to try some."

"No way, dude. I still got a lot o' things I wanna do."

"Awww. Casey Jones losin' his touch?"

"Hey, watch it. I can still kick your butt at plenty of stuff."

"Yeah? Never at a spice-off."

* * *

"So, how'd your stake-out go?" Mikey asked his eldest brother.

He looked up from the plate of pizza gyouza he and Karai were sharing. "I think Donnie can explain it better," he answered.

Donnie reached down and retrieved his laptop from behind the counter. He flipped it open. "I've left three of my Spy Roaches at the docks," he explained. "If Bishop or the Shredder try anything, we'll know the exact same second. Raph, Casey, could you come over here?" He tinkered with the keys for a moment. "I went back to that satellite image we first saw Bishop in and I found something kinda…disturbing when I zoomed back a bit." He turned the laptop so that everyone could see. "Now, I don't wanna alarm anyone, but…_this_ is what I saw."

The room fell silent as everyone looked at the screen. It showed a picture of the entirety of New York as well as a sizeable portion of the Atlantic Ocean.

"Exactly what are we looking at?" Raphael asked.

Donnie pointed at the screen. "Those are the docks, where Bishop met with Shredder. Here's the bay, where I'm guessing he passed on a sailboat…and _here's_ the Atlantic." He pointed to an ant-sized speck on the blue part of the screen. It was in the shape of a hexagon, and seemed to be underwater due the layer of blue over it.

"So what is it?" Mikey asked. "What are we worried about? It's tiny."

Leonardo rolled his eyes. "Mikey…if something shows up on a satellite picture and you can _see_ it, you know it's big."

The orange-banded turtle took a closer look at the screen. "Wow," Mikey breathed. "That is _big_."

"Is it a submarine?" Leo asked.

"I don't know," Donnie admitted. "But it's probably how Bishop got into the country all the way from Great Britain without detection."

"Boys!" Murakami-san called. He was at the front door. "Someone's coming!"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Man, planning out Donnie's discovery was not easy. I went through like twenty maps of New York so I could be as detailed but accurate as possible. I feel it's very important to do your research before typing so much as a single letter.

BTW, I'm not sure about where you guys live, but here in the Philippines, it is officially Mom's big day.

Happy Mother's Day to all the awesome moms out there! Moms who put up with our crazy hobbies. Moms who shell out money for us to waste. Moms who get up at three in the morning to change their baby's soiled sheets. Moms who power through the work day only to come home to _more_ work. You are forever and always appreciated. We love you. Happy Mother's Day.


	11. Dinner With The Executioner

**Chapter Eleven: Dinner With The Executioner**

Days Ago…

The moon shone brightly over the island of Manhattan, bringing with it a chill befitting a horror novel. The docks reeked of fish, saltwater, seagull droppings, and gasoline. One would think that would make it the least suitable place for a feat of fine dining. Nevertheless, the abandoned warehouse was dressed for success; lights, flowers, candles, the whole shebang. A giant rectangular table stood at the center of said warehouse, decorated at both ends with fine silverware, glasses of every nature, and multiple plates.

At one end of the table stood an armored Oroku Saki.

Hidden in the shadows behind him were Xever, Bradford, and Tigerclaw. All three looked like they would much rather be anywhere but where they were at the moment. But first things first.

"Do any of you remember the way he looked at us when her first saw us?" Bradford asked quietly.

"How can I not?" Xever returned. "It still give me the chills. Like he was a starved man and we were a loaf of bread."

Bradford shuddered. "I didn't think anyone could creep me out like he did. And _I've_ been stalked by adolescent fanboys."

"Silence," Shredder commanded.

A column of light shone through the giant doors and the guest of honor, Doctor William Bishop, stepped in. Swathing his tall and lean form was a black business suit. On top of it, he wore a black trench coat that stretched down to his ankles. He flaunted a small grin, his white teeth a broad contrast to his dark skin. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses framed his black lifeless eyes.

The armored man nodded. "Dr. Bishop," he said gruffly.

Bishop repeated the gesture. "I see you've dressed for dinner, Mr. Oroku." He seated himself. "Thank you for inviting me. Please sit."

The Shredder did so at his own pace. "My sources have told me that you have a valuable source of power to offer."

"This is true," said Bishop.

"And it will enable me to control the entirety of New York."

"This is also true." He crossed his long legs under the table. "And _my_ sources tell me that you have access to a certain…chemical that may aid me in my endeavors. You should know that in order for our plan to succeed, should we agree to it, _you_ must deliver _first_, Mr. Oroku."

The Shredder narrowed his eyes. He never liked being told what he already knew. "First, you must tell me the nature of this power source...This..._technology_ of yours."

It was Bishop's turn to narrow his eyes. He leaned back in his seat. "Certainly," he said. He then proceeded to explain the weapons, the tools, the troops he intended to provide him with. The whole thing seemed overwhelming and one would find the idea just a little too ambitious. Not to mention ever so slightly inhumane. But Bishop felt different; he had nearly twenty years to perfect this plan. All he needed now was a man with the same passion and drive as him to help carry it out. He needed a partner.

When Bishop had finished elaborating, the Shredded nodded his understanding. "I see."

"And all I ask from you is this…_mutagen_ you mentioned in your message. It may take me some time to actually convert it into something even close to usable, but it's a _start_." He took a sip from his wine, cringing at the cheap taste. _These Asians really don't know tack about wine_, he thought.

"Very well," Shredder agreed. "I will have my resident scientist Baxter Stockman work on this straight away."

"You there, with the fish head!" Bishop suddenly said, surprising even the Shredder. He was referring to Fishface. "You really mustn't stare. It isn't polite."

"Who said I was staring?" Xever defended. "And how would you even notice?" He felt like a child being admonished for a slip of the tongue.

Bishop shook his head. "Remised manners are very easy for _me_ to spot," he pointed out. "After all, we Brits take pride in our manners."

Xever flashed his teeth. In a daring move that shocked his fellow henchmen, Xever broke rank and strode over to where Bishop was sitting. "Well, we are _not_ in Britain, you slimy Limey son of a-GAH!"

He never saw Bishop rushing for him. In the blink of an eye, Xever was pinned to the edge of the table, Bishop hovering over him with one strong hand clamped to his scaly throat. From the folds of his coat, Bishop produced a small hand-held buzzsaw. He clicked a button with his thumb and the saw hummed to life, its blade glinting thirstily for blood.

"You were once human, yes?" Bishop asked, edging the saw closer to Xever's face. "Your blood's not the purest source I could get, but I suppose with a little extra effort…"

Xever just about thought he would wet himself.

"Enough," said the Shredder exasperatedly. An idea had made its way into his head.

The buzzsaw fell silent, a hair's breadth away from Xever's cranium. Bishop turned to the armored man, tucking the machine back into his coat. "Problem?"

"If it is mutagenic blood you seek," Shredder continued. "I know of a specific and _purer_ source you could make use of."

"Speak." He went back to his seat as Xever retook his place behind the Shredder.

"Would it matter if the source were reptilian in nature?" Shredder asked.

The smile returned to Bishop's face. "No. In fact, reptile blood would be _much_ easier to work with."

"Then that is fortuitous indeed," said the Shredder. He was about to explain in detail when a figure appeared in the doorway behind Bishop. Ever on the alert, Shredder's henchmen readied themselves; Bradford held out his claws and snarled, Tigerclaw raised his laser canons, and Xever unfolded his butterfly knife.

Bishop looked behind him to see the source of the disturbance. "It is alright," he told them. "He's with me."

Shredder raised a hand and his henchmen fell back into place. They observed as the stranger moved to stand beside Bishop.

He was tall. Very tall. His giant body was swathed in black leather with shoes to match. The high collar of his trench coat obscured his mouth, baring only the upper half of his face. His outrageous eyebrows converged in the middle of his face, meeting the bridge of his angled sunglasses. On the crown of his head was a single strip of black hair, resembling a Mohawk. Splitting his face diagonally in half was an ugly pink scar. He radiated danger.

Bishop gestured to the newcomer. "I would be amiss not to introduce my good friend. This is Agent Sonny Wong." The giant of a man didn't move. "So sorry, he's not one for words. We met while I was working for the British Library…Well, I didn't meet him so much as…_acquire_ him. But that's not important. You were saying about these mutagenic reptiles?"

"All you need to know is that they are the answer to your prayers," Shredder explained. "With them, you can revive this leader of yours...this Mr. Gentleman…and in exchange for their blood, I will have access to your technology."

"I will not leave my lab again," Bishop stated. "So how will I obtain them?"

Shredder gestured to Tigerclaw. "You may leave that to my comrade here."

"I do not work for free," Tigerclaw inserted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bishop threw him a condescending smile. "Nor did I expect you to." He snapped his fingers and Sonny Wong stepped forward. The giant of a man reached into his coat and produced a small brown briefcase. He held it out to the tiger.

Tigerclaw tentatively walked over to stand before Wong. Now that they stood face to face they could gauge their heights; Wong, although leaner, stood a head and shoulders taller than Tigerclaw and the mutant did not look too pleased with that. Finally, Wong flipped open the briefcase, showing the tiger the contents: stacks upon stacks of American dollar bills.

Before the tiger could take a closer look, Wong slammed the case shut, earning himself a frustrated growl from the mutant. Wong seemed to recognize this as a threat. Using his free hand, Wong reached into a pocket in his coat. Tigerclaw reached for his laser canon.

"Uh uh uh!" Bishop chided. "Wong."

As if automatically, Wong straightened up. With the suitcase dangling limply in one hand, the giant man went back to his place next to Bishop.

"Enough, Tigerclaw." Shredder glared at his furred henchman. The tiger took the hint and returned to his place behind his master. "It is done, then," Shredder concluded. "You may use them as you see fit. Their blood is yours…but their lives are _mine_ to take once you are done."

"You speak very passionately about them," Bishop stated. "One would think you hate them."

The Shredder remained silent.

For a long moment, Bishop stayed impassive. Ever so slowly, a wicked-looking smile crept onto his face. "Done deal," he finally said. He took his napkin, whipped it open, and laid it across his lap. Then he folded his hands and placed them on the table. "So, what's the first course?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

And a new player has joined the game:

**Agent Sonny Wong**, codenamed **The** **Recycler**\- a canon character from the 26-episode Read Or Die TV series. He is a secret agent of immense power and skill. And a ruthless, _ruthless_ killer. He is very mysterious and never speaks but when he does, his voice is the _last_ thing you will hear. He is also the most powerful field agent of the British Library's greatest enemy and rival for world domination, **Dokusensha**, the Eastern equivalent of the British Library.

He is also a superhuman agent, but I won't reveal his powers just yet. Don't go spoiling the fun by Googling it.

*"So, what's the first course?" - when I wrote this stylish little one-liner, I had the Vesper Lynd meeting scene from Casino Royale in mind. Except she was looking at a menu and said "What looks good?". Plus, when I'm writing villains, I like giving them an eccentric side.

Thanks for reading and feel free to review.


	12. Bad Choices

**Chapter Twelve: Bad Choices**

All four turtles made a beeline for the space behind the counter, their shells conking together loudly as they did. Casey and Karai sat themselves closer together, shielding the counter from people's vision as best as they could. Mr. Murakami had come back from food shopping just in time and the Hamatos cursed themselves for neglecting their watch-keeping.

"I am very sorry," they heard Murakami-san say to the mystery person. "We are closed."

"It's quite alright. I'm just here to pick something up." The speaker had a thick Manchester accent, obviously female.

Casey and Karai immediately spun round in their seats, greeted by Paige's warm smile. She waved one small hand at them. She was still wearing her usual white dress and bulky beige trench coat, her dark blonde hair cascading brown her back.

"Mr. Murakami, it's cool," Casey told him. "She's a friend."

The blind man turned to Paige and was surprised as she said, in his native tongue, she was sorry for intruding. He gave a nervous chuckle and said it was alright before welcoming her in and returned to sweeping the front of the diner. She walked over to where her boy and Karai were seated.

"Evening, all," she greeted.

"'Sup, P?" Casey returned.

"Paige, you speak Japanese?" Karai asked.

"Yes," she said. "Me mentor from the British Library was Japanese. And I'd be a poor excuse for an international spy if I couldn't speak more than ten languages."

"Ten?" Casey mouthed.

"So this is your new hang-out," Paige observed.

"Yeah," Casey confirmed. "It's small but homey. And wait 'till you try the Pizza Gyouza." He suddenly remembered the state his friends were still in. He knocked on the counter. "Guys, it's cool, you can come out."

Leo was the first to resurface, sucking in a welcomed breath. "Mikey, when was the last time you washed your feet?"

Mikey stood up from behind the counter, Raph and Donnie behind him and glaring daggers at their youngest brother's shell. He stroked his chin in thought. "Um…When did that whole giant worm thing happen again?" He fell silent when he saw Paige, suddenly embarrassed at having said something like that in front of a lady. He giggled nervously.

"You must be Michelangelo," Paige said, extending a hand to him. "Nice to meet you."

He took her hand in both of his and shook it vigorously. "The one and only," he said proudly. "And likewise. Wow. When my brothers told me you were English and Casey's nanny, I kinda thought you'd look more like Mary Poppins."

Paige gave a warm laugh. "No, dear. But I sound enough like her, I suppose…Could you let go of me hand?"

He hadn't realized that he was still shaking it. "Oh, sorry."

"Quite alright. Now, are you feeling better? I heard you were ill."

Mikey waved it off. "Pssshhh. I'm great." He looked down, shifting on his feet. He remembered what his brothers had reported regarding Paige. "By the way, um…I heard…you know, from my brothers…that you could do stuff with paper and-"

"Say no more," Paige said, her smile growing. She reached for one of the disposable napkins on the table. She pinched it between two fingers and flicked it into the air, where it immediately folded itself into a paper crane. For a while, as everyone watched in awe, the crane hovered in the air and then started to sail away.

"That is epic!" Mikey exclaimed before proceeding to chase the crane around the diner.

"It still surprises me that you can do that," Leo told Paige.

Raph's gaze was glued to Mikey. "Look at him go," Raph observed. "Kinda reminds me of a puppy with a laser pen."

Donnie leaned towards her. "You do realize he's gonna make you do that every time he sees you, right?"

Paige shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't mind," she said honestly as she watched Mikey try to shoot the crane down with rubber bands. She held a look of pure adoration. For all the world, she looked like a proud mother watching her child at graduation. A loud crash resounded through the diner as Mikey tripped over a chair and fell flat on his stomach, groaning. Before any of his siblings could react, Paige rushed to Mikey's side.

She helped him stand, keeping a steady hand on his shell. "Michelangelo," she admonished. "Please take it easy. You're still recovering." She held her hand aloft and willed the crane to nestle itself into her palm. Once she had it, she gave it to an excited and grateful Michelangelo.

"Aw, don't sweat it, Paige," he assured. "I'm feelin' great! Matter of fact, I'm here 'cuz I wanted to celebrate. To the karaoke machine!" He sauntered off to the corner of the diner where the new karaoke machine now stood.

"I'll help you turn it on, Mikey," Karai offered before following.

Mikey scoffed. "Yeah right. You just wanna hog it again."

"Hey," Karai defended. "It's your fault for getting me started on it in the first place."

Paige leaned towards Leonardo. "Is he always so chipper?"she asked. "That must be nice." Behind her back, Mikey's siblings exchanged frowns as if to say: "She has no idea, does she?" Remembering what she came here for, she turned back to the turtles. "Boys, I was wondering if I could talk to Casey for a minute."

Leonardo nodded and ushered his siblings away from the counter and towards the karaoke machine, where Mikey and Karai had begun a tug of war with the songbook and mic. They were arguing about what language of song to play.

"So" Paige began, seating herself in the stool beside Casey. "I talked to your father. He's agreed to go through with the physical therapy."

Casey's shoulders sank in relief. "Finally!" he sighed. "Oh, but good luck trying to find a…a _therapist_-is that what they're called?"

Paige nodded. "Yes. And I know it won't be easy. I know how your father feels about strangers in the house. That's why I -"

Charming reggae music cut her sentence off. Mikey had clearly lost the fight for the remote because it was a female voice who had started singing. "_Taisetsu ni shite ita mono wa itsumo koboreochite yuku. Demo kimi to no omoide dake wa kono mune no oku ni tsuyoku aru_…"

"My, that's a lovely voice," Paige commented.

"That's Karai singing," said Casey. "You know, she hated the karaoke thing at first. Then one day, Mikey got super-bored and convinced her to sing with him. She ended up loving it."

Paige beamed. He was speaking so fondly of her. "You really like that girl, don't you, Casey?"

Casey hesitated only for a moment. He nodded. "Yeah. But, you know, just as a friend. She's a good friend. And she has her eye on someone else…and so do I." He flashed her one of his signature smug grins.

Paige ruffled his hair affectionately. "I understand," she told him, a nostalgic twinkle in her eyes. "I had a friend like that once. We were inseparable."

"He's back in England?"

The light from her eyes dimmed slightly. "No, sadly. We drifted apart in college. He's long gone now."

Casey's smile melted; he recalled his own broken friendship. "It happens," he said comfortingly. "Remember Nick? We're not friends anymore, either."

She laid her hand on his. "I'm sorry, sweetheart…It's like what your mum told me once: some things are just out of our control."

"…_Ima ni mo kikoete kisou na ano waraigoe__. __Futari dake no natsu no owari oboete iru yo_…"

As soon as the final verse ended, Mikey and Karai were scrambling for the mic yet again. Raphael excused himself to get some more drinks and was not happy to see Paige still at the counter with Casey. Still, he proceeded to the cooler behind the counter.

Paige turned to the red-banded turtle. "Raphael, I can't help but think that we got off rather on the wrong foot."

Raphael didn't bother looking up. "Ya think?" he sassed.

Keeping her face neutral, Paige nodded. "Yes. And perhaps it didn't help, me givin' you cheek right back…But Casey is very important to me and, by extension, so is your opinion of me…I'm willing to do what I have to do to earn your trust."

Raphael cocked an eyebrow. "Okay. Then, can you go jump into the East River?"

Casey visibly paled at the blatant way Raph was speaking to her; in his head, he was already imagining Paige using Raph's shell as a decorative bowl.

Paige flashed Raphael an admonishing look. "No, young man. Something else."

Raph honestly considered walking away and saying this wasn't worth his time. And then something on the counter caught his eye: the jar of chili pepper mash Casey had brought with him. He took the jar and handed it to Paige. "Okay, then," he began as Paige turned the jar over in her hands, inspecting it. "Spice-Off. Whoever lasts the longest wins."

A smirk crept onto Paige's face, one that Casey had never before seen her wear and chilled him to the bone.

"Alright," she agreed. "Let's give it a bash. If you win, you can have your pick of any of my antique weapons back home…But if I win, you stop giving me cheek and behave yourself around me…_And_, you help me organize my whole apartment building-from the floors to the fixtures."

The red-clad turtle narrowed his eyes in thought.

Casey could see what was happening and tapped a finger on his green friend's shoulder. "Uh, Raph?"

Raph brushed his hand away. "Casey, I'm thinking." Thinking, indeed. About how nice that push-dagger of hers would look on his wall.

"No," Casey persisted. "Raph, seriously-"

"Shh. Not now, Casey." Raphael thrust out one green hand. "Deal."

They shook hands.

Paige, the jar in her hands, then went over to Mikey and asked him if he was willing to try his hand at making curry. A proud grin cracked Raphael's face in half. He was super stoked. But as Casey placed a hand on his shoulder in what he assumed would be a wish of good luck, he made a horrifying realization. It was enough to wipe the smirk off his face.

"You just challenged an Indian person to a spice-off," Casey told him.

Raph nodded. "Yeah, this may have been a mistake."

* * *

**Author's Note and References:**

I think we can all safely assume who won that battle. Oh well.

Oh, Raph. You and your hubris…*shakes head*

Paige, you and your sneakiness. Heh heh

I honestly want to know: did _anyone_ miss Paige?

Regarding the last chapter, did anyone else sense the sexual tension between Shred-head and the Bish? No one? Jut me? Okay, well I just made everything awkward, didn't I?

***Paige's mentor** \- Paige is referring to the Read Or Die protagonist **Yomiko Readman**, who is in fact Half-Japanese and Half-English. She was the 19th holder of the codename "Agent Paper" and the greatest Papermaster in the world. And yes, I know the whole "I speak more than ten languages" thing is very Sue-ish, but hey! At least Paige has a legitimate reason.

I am on a roll, aren't I? One update per day, baby! Sadly, that'll have to end with this chapter, sorry 'bout that.

Karai's song:

The song Karai is singing is **Moments In The Sun** by Kazami. Please look it up, it's really good. It's a nice relaxing reggae song and, most importantly, it's the end credits theme to the 26-episode Read Or Die TV series.

The first verse translates to: _The things I treasured are always spilling over. But the memories of my time with you remain strong in my heart._

And the ending verse: _Even now I feel like I can hear your laugh__. __I remember the end of that summer we spent, just the two of us._

As you can tell, it's a song about nostalgia and lost loved ones. Losing a friend, no matter what the circumstances that led to their loss may be, is never easy. Very fitting that it should be playing at the same time that Casey and Paige are talking about the friends they've lost, eh? The fact that this song is actually from ROD and the fact that it lends itself well to that scene is a complete coincidence-one that makes me very happy. A Happy Coincidence!

See you all soon. As always, thanks for reading and feel free to review.


	13. The Sketchbook

**Chapter Thirteen: The Sketchbook**

"Now, it was your _brother_ who lost the contest," Paige told the other Hamato siblings. "None of you need to be doing this."

"Nah, it's cool, Paige," Leonardo insisted.

For the second time that week, the Hamato children found themselves inside Paige's apartment building. Only this time, they were imposing instead of invited. At the crack of ten, they had appeared and began the meticulous task of un-boxing every book on the first floor and hanging up new shelves. Ever the late-riser, Paige had been awoken to the sound of rustling and shameless arguing. She had crept down to the first floor, a pad of paper at the ready and cursing herself for not installing her security system. Upon finally reaching the first level, she'd discovered the source of the noise and smiled.

"I'm serious," she continued, "You don't have to do this."

Again, Leo brushed it off. "We know we don't _have_ to, we _want_ to."

Raphael, who was struggling with one particularly heavy box, rolled his eyes. "Speak for yourself," he grumbled. Just for that, he received a smack on the head from his older brother.

"Can it, Raph," Leo ordered; quietly so that Paige would not hear them. "If we do something nice for her, she might help us with Bishop."

"What was that?" Paige asked.

Leonardo gave his best fake smile. "Heh heh. Nothing, Paige." He turned back to his brother. "Besides, this whole 'not knowing what we're up against' thing is starting to get to us. We could use a little distraction." Without waiting for a reply, he proceeded down to hall and got to work.

Rubbing his head, Raphael sighed and went back to his own work. But not before indiscreetly calling his brother a neat freak. At the far end of the hallway, Mikey was working with Karai to pile all the boxes up against one wall, leaving the other bare for them to hang the bookshelves on.

Donnie approached Paige, his open laptop cradled in his hands. Out of all his siblings, he seemed to be the most excited. And it was easy to see why. "Paige, you got a second? I've been meaning to talk to you about your security system. You just wait, this place is gonna get the full Donnie Treatment. Security cameras, laser beam alarm triggers, pepper-spray booby traps. Maybe a fingerprint scanner for the front door!"

Paige smiled in spite of herself. She was touched and very appreciative, but the genius turtle seemed to be missing the point. "That's well good, Donnie, but isn't it a bit…_excessive_?" She emphasized the last word, hoping he would take the hint.

But it was too late. Donatello's eyes were already glazed over in geeky anticipation. "Nonsense. I've never lived in Brooklyn before, but I know plenty of people who have and ended up regretting it. Can't be too careful, Paige."

"But, Donnie, I…" She reached for him, but he'd already puttered away to begin his work. She didn't have time to try him again as she notice Mikey struggling with one of the larger boxes. She trotted over to him and used her papermastery to set the box down before Mikey could hurt himself. "Michelangelo," she scolded gently. "Don't push yourself. You worry me."

"Aw, it's all good, P. Can I call you P?"

"Absolutely not," she replied bluntly.

He let out something like a cross between a whimper and a laugh. "Alrighty, Paige it is."

Paige held up her hands in a gesture for them to stop what they were doing. "Alright, enough," she announced. "This is what we'll do. Since Raphael lost the spice-off fair and square, he's in charge of the 7th, 8th, and 9th floors." She turned to the remaining Hamato siblings."The rest we split amongst ourselves. Agreed?"

Leo stepped forward. "But, Paige-"

She held a finger to his lips. "Uh uh! Agreed?"

"Agreed," everyone but Raph chorused.

Paige laid a hand on Mikey's shoulder. "Michelangelo, you're still recovering, so I'm putting you in charge of the kitchen."

"Alright!" he cheered.

"Yes," Paige agreed. "We'll make the meals for the day. And I can make some more of that curry that made your brother squirm."

"Hey, it was not that bad," Raphael retorted.

"Wasn't that bad?" Mikey sassed. "You looked like your tongue was about to fall off, dude."

Paige looked at the other Hamato siblings. "So it's settled. That's not a problem, is it? Raphael?"

He forced a smile, one that hurt his cheeks with the exertion. "Not. At. All."

* * *

It was on a whim that Casey ended up here, in front of his mother's grave. He was pleasantly surprised to see an assortment of fresh flowers already lying on top of the plot. _Must have been Paige_, he thought with a warm fondness. Now, his own meager offerings, three long-stemmed roses, seemed so small compared to the expensive tulips now sitting on the grave. A sudden sadness dawned on him as he realized just how much time had passed since his last visit. He had meant to drop by but some things needed his attention more, namely a mutant invasion and his responsibilities at home. But he knew his mother well enough to know that those were hardly good excuses. He set his own small patch of flowers on the grave and knelt down.

"I miss you, mom," he began shakily. "Sorry I…took so long to…to…" Stifled sobs assaulted him, breaking his sentences. He dragged a ragged sleeve across his rapidly-dampening face. "This is _not_ cool, Casey Jones," he scolded.

He looked around for anything to keep him distracted from a full-on melt-down. The crying thing just wasn't his. He spotted a young oak tree some ways away, its branches low enough to the ground that it would make for a perfect tire swing setup. It brought to mind a memorable experience he had as a child, one that brought a sad smile to his face.

"Just so you know, mom, I kinda inherited your twisted sense of humor. Remember that day at the park when I was nine…"

His mother obviously couldn't answer, but at least Casey remembered that day.

* * *

_"You really think we should leave him like that?" Paige asked. _

_"Ah, don't worry," Antonia insisted. "He'll come down."_

_The usual Sunday picnic would have gone peacefully, as it usually does, had Casey not managed to get himself stuck in that tree. Now the two girl friends stood on the grassy earth beneath the shade of the tree, their heads cocked to the side in curious amusement. _

_"Mom," the boy called, "could you get me down?"_

_"Sweetie, you got yourself stuck up there, you can get yourself back down."_

_"Doesn't that seem a bit harsh?" Paige asked._

_Antonia shook her head, dark waves of hair bouncing around her face. "Nah. My parents did the same thing to me once. Besides, he's low enough to the ground; he shouldn't hurt himself. Come on, before my husband eats all the hotdogs."_

_Paige scratched the back of her head. "Um, Toni, I think I'll stay here, and make sure he doesn't get hurt." With a shrug and one final look at her son, Antonia went back to the picnic. Paige turned her attention to the panicking boy. "Alright, Casey, try to right yourself."_

_Casey kept his death grip on the branch. "Paige, can you get me down?" he begged. _

_Paige shook her head. "I don't know about that, Casey. I don't want to go over your mum's head."_

_Casey was starting to shake, a desperation that grated at his nanny's heart emerging in his tone. "Paige, seriously! I'm startin' to freak out."_

_Her response was a heartfelt sigh. Paige knew she couldn't catch him from that height without hurting herself and him. But she knew of one thing that she could do. She looked around to see if anyone was watching, an idea forming in her head. It could work; she had just enough paper in her pockets. She cleared her throat and produced a few brown sheets of paper. "Alright, Casey. Now, close your eyes and let go."_

_He replied by hugging the branch even tighter. "Are you nuts? No!"_

_"Casey, it's alright. I'll catch you. You can trust me."_

_He shook his head with such vigor that his face might have been sent flying. Then he caught sight of the light in his nanny's eyes as she flashed him yet another warm, heartfelt smile. _

_"Trust me," she insisted. _

_An eternity passed before Casey finally relented ad took one deep breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and snatched his hands from the branch. He had no idea what happened next, but he could definitely feel the world spinning and then suddenly righting itself. He also felt a strange pressure on his back, one that reminded him of the way his dad would suspend him up in the air on the soles of his feet when he was younger. As soon as he felt the cool moisture of grass beneath his feet, Casey heard Paige say, "Open your eyes." _

_And he did. He was safe. He was on the ground, not a single scratch on him. He looked at his nanny._

_She pressed a finger to her lips, mouthing a 'shh'. In her other hand was a medium-sized paper airplane. Bending down to his level, she handed him the paper creation. She gave his hair an affectionate tousling as he looked the plane over in his hands._

_"This'll be our little secret," she told him._

* * *

"Now that I think about it," Casey sniffled, "compared to you, Paige is a complete push-over, huh, mom?"

Smiling at the happy memory, Casey wiped away the last of the tears from his treacherous eyes. He looked around, wondering just how much time had passed. It was getting dark and his friends were expecting him.

"Gotta run. See ya later, mom…Love you."

He bent down and patted the hedge stone before collecting his bag and leaving. Time to go and see his pals. And his other mom.

* * *

Hours passed and morning turned into evening. The sounds of drilling had finally died down as the last of the shelves were finally secured into place. All that was left were to organize the books, sweep up, and enjoy a well-deserved dinner prepared by Mikey and Paige. Upstairs on the ninth floor, Raphael's spiral of self-depreciation continued. Only this time, he was taking out his frustration on the boxes, kicking them over and throwing their contents around. At least he was almost done; he was finally at the end of the hall, the steel door that lead to the roof in sight.

"For the love o' pizza, Raph! What the heck were you thinking?" he demanded. "Dang it, I hate myself!"

Then he realized something. "Wait," he stopped himself. "Wait. Wait. Why should I go there? That's negative." Just like how Master Splinter taught him, Raphael took one deep cleansing breath and let it out with a hiss, and his fingers pointing outward. "I hate _her_," he corrected. "I hate _the British_! With those-those bony hands, and-and-and Gordon Ramsay with his elephant skin!"

With that, he threw a particularly hard kick at one of the larger boxes. It tipped over, its contents spilling out onto the rugged floor in front of the second-to-the-last door in the hall. The force sent a hardbound book sliding forward, where it managed to nudge open the door. It cracked open just enough to make the red-banded turtle notice. The latch must not have been in place. Breathing a heavy sigh, Raph moved to shut the door. But before he could, he managed to catch a glimpse of what exactly was inside. Raph was suddenly speechless. He'd never seen a room like this before. And why would _she_ have a room like this?

"Raphael!" he heard Paige call. Speak of the Devil. She was in the stairway. And heading closer.

He snatched his hand away from the doorknob as though it burned him. Thinking quickly, he cleaned up his mess, shut the door, and piled as many books and boxes as time allowed in front of it. Looked innocent enough, he figured. Just in time as well, as Paige's head poked through the corner. She walked over to him.

"What were you doing?" she half-demanded, but there was a hint of genuine concern in her tone. "I was worried you'd found yourself under a pile of books. Where were you?"

Raph cleared his throat. "Sorry I didn't hear you, I was in one of the rooms-"

"Which room?"

Paige asked with such urgency and alarm that Raphael nearly spilled the beans. Instead he did the only thing he could do: he lied. "Uh, _that_ room." He pointed the door opposite the one he'd opened. He stole a sideways glance at Paige, whose face remained impassive; if ever she wasn't convinced, she certainly had no intention of letting him know. He decided to change the subject. "Why would I be under a pile of books?"

Paige raised both eyebrows. "It's happened before." She looked round at the state of the hall. The shelves were firmly in place and there were no more than ten full boxes left. "This is good enough, Raphael, I can finish it myself tomorrow. You must be tired."

Raph blinked in surprise. "What? No. I lost fair and square. I have to finish this."

"It's alright," she insisted. "You've done enough to help me. I really do appreciate it." The silence that then passed between them was all kinds of awkward. It was thankfully broken by the sound of Paige clearing her throat. "I think you should know that you'll be seeing a lot more of me. I'm staying on as Casey's father's physical therapist. I was going to tell him yesterday, but I decided against it."

"Well," Raph began, "when are you gonna tell him?"

"Oh. In a few days. Maybe on his birthday."

Raph cocked an eyebrow. "His birthday's in a few days?"

"Yes. Didn't he tell you?"

"No," Raph admitted, feeling strangely betrayed. "For someone who likes to talk about himself, Casey sure does leave a lot of stuff out."

Paige chuckled. "Yeah. He does that. In fact, up until he met you lot, he was even more secretive. It's like he has a whole other secret life. He doesn't, does he?"

That was not expected. "What?" Raph stammered, remembering how Casey didn't want the truth of his vigilantism getting out. "No. O-Of course not!"

Again, she did not looked convinced. Raph gulped.

Paige had absentmindedly begun to stroke one of the boxes, gently running her palm over the grainy cardboard as though it were a pet. "I know you're probably wondering about all the books," she said suddenly. "Me mother loved books. Me mentors loved books. I was _never_ far from a good book. And if I think hard enough, I can remember where each and every one of them came from." She knelt down, pried open the box, and began producing random books from it. "This one I got from a used-book store in Japan...And this one I bought from a book fair in Germany…And this one is from a gift shop in New Orleans. Do you know what they all have in common?"

Raph shook his head.

Paige smiled warmly. "They're all good books and they're all some of me favorites." She set the books down and stood, her hands clasped behind her back and her head bowed in thought. "You know, good books are just like people, in a way."

Raph cocked his head. "Really?" he asked skeptically. "What makes you say that?"

Paige shrugged. "Oh. Call it fate or coincidence or what-have-you, but it brought me to some wonderful books, as well as people. It's what led me to Casey and his family." She looked him in the eye. "I'm sure it's what brought _you_ to _your_ family."

The earnest intensity in her gaze was one that Raphael couldn't hold. It was as if his own father's eyes were bearing down on him after a serious lecture.

"That's why I say all good books are just like people. They always manage to find their way into the lives of the ones who _want_ them and _need_ them _from the bottom of their heart_." Turtle and human shared a smile of understanding.

"So," Raph began. "You're telling me you remember every book in all of these boxes?"

"You never know when you're going to need something. It helps to have a sharp memory. Even more so when you're a double agent...or ninja." She winked at him. Then Paige looked thoughtfully at her green charge, one finger stroking her chin. "You strike me as the artistic type," she said. She went back to the box and pulled forth a small black book. "I bought this after an assignment in France, thinking it was some kind of pocket book. Turns out it was a sketchbook." Paige strode over and handed him the book. "I'd like you to have it."

Raphael looked down at the gift in his hands. "I don't know if I can accept this."

Paige hooked her arm around his in reply. "_I_ know you can accept it. You've helped me a great deal today." With that, she began to lead him back down the hall to the stairway. "Come on," she said kindly. "You must be hungry. I know your siblings are. They looked just about ready to kill you when I told them to wait till everyone was at the table."

"Huh, I bet they did," he agreed, tucking the sketchbook into his belt.

Paige titled her head. "Michelangelo is…sort of strange, isn't he?"

"Oh," Raph observed. "You picked up on that, huh?"

Though Paige tried her best to hide it, from the way she was discreetly leading him away, Raph could tell she no longer wanted him anywhere near that door. Raphael gave one last careful look over his shoulder at the aforementioned door. He couldn't help but think that he'd just seen something he shouldn't have. However, he was, after hearing what Paige said, strangely at peace with it; just like how he felt after a good talk with his father.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

There was actually more to this chapter, but if I continued any more, we'll end up with 10,000 words. Haha Ain't Nobody Got Time For That!

While I'm obviously not gonna tell you what's in that room (yet), I can tell you that the flashback was based on a true story. It happened to my uncle when he was a kid and he stupidly got himself stuck in a coconut palm with no way to get down. While everyone panicked, my grandmother (his mom) simply stated: "He'll come down". And then just walked the f*ck away. LOL

So, yeah. Casey knew the whole time that Paige wasn't your average everyday nanny; didn't any of you notice how strangely unsurprised he was when Paige saved him from his fall in chapter 4? I actually leave a lot of little breadcrumbs for you guys, hoping you can find your way to the candy house (what the eff is this metaphor?). And I know that it's Mikey who is usually portrayed as the artistic one, but 2k12 Raph seems to have it down more than him. Go figure. I just up and went with it. Looks like Paige and Raph have officially reached the friend zone. *sigh* finally.

Sorry for the long wait, but I was busy with my final culinary exam. In the course of four days, I've had to make 18 pretzel rolls, 2 baguettes, 3 loaves of challah, 3 bread baskets, a loaf of sourdough, twenty grissini, twenty English muffins, and two raisin loaves. Not to mention handmade sausages, cheeses, and butter. But it was worth it; at least none of my diners went out for pizza lol.

Thanks for reading, as always!


	14. The Last Room On The Ninth

**Chapter Fourteen: The Last Room On The Ninth**

There was something to be said about Indian food. The main thing would be that it was amazing. So amazing that Paige had decide not to prolong the wait and told the Hamato children to start on their meal, Casey Jones or no. Paige and all five of her guests had adjourned to the cozy dining room after their hard day's work. Michelangelo never thought he would enjoy the taste of anything without tomatoes and cheese, but he ate his meal of jasmine rice and butter chicken with apparent relish. He was already calling dibs on thirds. Finally came the best part of any meal: dessert. For that, Paige had prepared kheer, which was rice pudding, but so much better.

Paige thanked and complimented each and every one of the children on their excellent work but made a special mention for Michelangelo for his remarkable attempt at Indian food. The conversation then shifted to the question of how the turtles were able to find decent food in the sewers in their early years. Mikey was more than happy to tell their story, finishing with their first trip to the surface and their first taste of pizza, or as he liked to call it, the Holy Grail Of Munchies. Paige listened in silence, smiling contentedly the whole time.

"…and that's how we got our first taste of real food," said Mikey.

Paige finished the last of her rice pudding. "Well, I hope that pizza delivery boy didn't lose his job."

Leo shook his head. "Nah. I don't think so. "

Donnie stroked his chin. "Come to think of it, that wasn't the last we saw of him."

"Yeah, it wasn't," Raph agreed.

Paige rested her hand in her palm, her eyes glazed over in thought. "Huh...The tales that pizza delivery boy must have to tell…"

* * *

Dinner had all but ended and Casey Jones still hadn't arrived. Paige would have been worried if she hadn't known that Casey was late only to avoid doing any work. Leo helped her with the dishes while his family adjourned to the living room to play a round of Pictionary. He and Paige passed the time with stories about some of the missions she and her partner undertook for the British Library. Most of them involved collecting rare books from around the world but each one of them was fraught with action and danger. Leo listened in awe; it was like something out of one of his favorite sci-fi shows, with Paige as one of the characters.

But talking about the Library also reminded Leo of why he and his family were there in the first place. The thought wiped away any enthusiasm he previously had. He'd grown quiet and that fact was not lost on Paige.

"Something on your mind?" she asked as she loaded plates into the dishwasher.

Leo hesitated. He knew Paige would not take kindly to such an intrusive question. It would be wrong to ask so much of her all of a sudden…But it would be even more wrong to put his brothers' safety at risk without exhausting _all_ of his options. He made an executive decision. "Yeah, actually. It's about…Bishop."

_Crash!_ went the dish that slipped out of Paige's grip.

Leo recoiled with a gasp as the plate shattered into thousand pieces at his feet. His gaze travelled upwards to Paige, who kept her back turned to him. She didn't look at him as she spoke. "What about him?" she asked, the sudden bitterness in her tone catching Leo off-guard.

"We need your help," he repeated, his resolve unhindered.

"Well, you're not going to get it. I've already told you I want _nothing_ to do with Bishop." She finally turned to look at him, her once-kind brown eyes now hardened and cold. "…And if you had any kind of brain in your head, you _won't_ go looking for him."

Leo wanted to speak, but the words died in his throat. It was as if he was talking to a completely different person.

"Uh, what's going on here?" Raph asked, poking his head into the room. He'd been drawn to the sound of crashing plates and gradually rising voices.

Leo's brow furrowed. He didn't appreciate being patronized, especially by someone he had no relation to. That thought snapped him out of his speechless stupor and he continued. "But you're the only one who knows how his mind works. We could really use your help."

"I've given you my answer," said Paige. "No."

And Raph finally knew what was happening. He could understand Leo's persistence, and wanted Paige on their side as much as him, but couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't right…He remembered the room.

Raph reached for his brother. "Leo, I need you to shut up. Like, right now."

Leo ignored him. "Paige, please!"

"Leo, stop!" Raph insisted. "Seriously. I need to talk to you."

Again, the blue-banded turtle didn't seem to notice. "Please! My family's safety is at stake! You can't expect me to just ignore that."

"I don't expect you to ignore it, just don't ask help from _me_."

"But, Paige-"

"No," Paige repeated firmly. She felt the first sting of tears stabbing at her eyes. This would not do; she could break down in front of them. "…And I think you should leave."

Both turtles heads snapped in her direction. "What?" Leo breathed. "Paige, we just-"

Paige cut him off. "Please leave…please?"

Raphael had to drag Leo out.

* * *

The Hamatos reached the first floor just as Casey Jones was shutting the front door behind him. He walked up to meet them halfway. "Hey, guys," he greeted with his usual cockiness. "Casey Jones, fashionably late as always and…wait. Wait. Where're ya guys goin'?"

"Home," Leo said gruffly. Without another word, he and his siblings brushed past Casey, their faces grave.

Casey wouldn't take that for an answer. He grabbed Raph's arm and jerked him backward, forcing his red-banded friend to look him in the eye. "What's going on?" he practically demanded.

"Leo got us kicked out!" Donnie called from the front door.

"I did not!" the eldest turtle retorted.

"Yeah," Mikey agreed. "I didn't even get to guess what Donnie was drawing."

Karai gathered the other turtles in a huddle and began leading them to the door. "We'll go on ahead," she told Raph. Unlike her idiot brothers, she could read a room. And right now, she knew that he and Casey would need a minute.

Raph nodded a thanks to his sister. He turned to Casey. "You're her family, Casey. If anyone should talk to her, it's _you_." He shook his arm free from Casey's grip. "Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go beat some manners into Lame-O-Nardo." With that, Raphael followed his siblings out the door and into the shadows leading to the nearest manhole.

Casey bolted up the stairs.

* * *

Paige had remained in the kitchen; she thought her legs might give if she so much as stepped one foot forward. Tears streamed down her face. She braced her hands on the counter, her head bowed and unchecked nausea churning upward from the bottom of her gut. Nausea from the way she had spoken to those innocent children; she hadn't meant to be so harsh on Leonardo, or any of them. Nausea from the unceremonious way their pleasant evening was disrupted…

Nausea from remembering the past.

"Paige?" called her most favorite voice in the world.

A treacherous gasp escaped her lips. _Not him!_ she screamed internally. She succeeded in wiping her face dry just as Casey entered the kitchen. But he still managed to catch the way she brought her hand down from her face. The rawness around her eyes wasn't lost on him either.

"Aw, man," he breathed. A surge of protective anger coursed through him. "I didn't think you'd be crying. What did they do? What did they say to you?"

"No," Paige defended. She turned her back to him; just the thought of him seeing her face any more than he already had was almost too much to bear. "No, Casey. Your friends did nothing wrong…I overreacted. I'll apologize to them later."

"Paige, seriously. What happened?"

"Casey," she said forcefully. Taking a deep breath, she let it out shakily. "…Casey, could you just give this old bird a minute to compose herself?"

"But, Paige-"

She looked at him then, her gaze pleading for him to comply.

Casey hesitated. He wanted nothing more than to stay and shake the answers out of her but one look in those gloomy umber eyes told him not to push the matter. He spared one final glance at her before resigning to the living room. He was worried. He's never seen Paige so upset. In all the years he's known her, she was always so emotionally strong; always smiling even when she didn't have to and never harsher than she needed to be. Whatever it was that reduced her to this state, it must have been _bad_.

For Paige's sake, he wanted to be patient but the fidgeting continued. He was two minutes away from rearranging every throw pillow in the room into a fort. But it already seemed like he'd been waiting years. He looked around the room for anything that could serve as a distraction. The books? _Fat chance!_ he spat. The unfinished game of Pictionary? _Elephant!_ he guessed. The big screen T.V. that was blaring the evening news? _T.V. is for cartoons and the Superbowl!_

Finally, he set his sights on the fireplace. Sat on the left side of the mantelpiece was a small porcelain urn. Why hadn't he noticed it before? He picked the urn up and turned it over in his hands; the patterns painted on it fascinated him. It looked like something straight out of the Renaissance Fair. He was still holding it as Paige entered the living room.

Paige suppressed the panic that began roiling inside her. "Oh, um, Casey, be very careful with that. Please."

The boy cocked an eyebrow. "Why? What's in it?" He could see the uncertainty in his former nanny's eyes. Was she worried that he might not like the answer?

Finally, Paige answered. "…My husband."

Casey blinked. Once and then twice until he finally took one deep breath, letting it all soak in. In his hands was…a dead person. "Ok," he said quietly, carefully setting the urn back on the mantlepiece. He wiped his hands on his shirt. "Paige, where d'ya keep your bleach?"

To Casey's surprise, Paige laughed. He joined her, albeit still a little disgusted. Paige dabbed at her eyes one final time. "You always could make me smile. No matter what."

Casey gave a lopsided smile. "So you…had a husband?"

Paige sighed, her smile faltering a little. "Yes. He was a wonderful man."

"...You know, mom never really brought up why you didn't have a family of your own."

Paige shook her head. "I do have a family, Casey. You…your mum, your dad, your sister…my family back in India and in the UK."

Casey frowned. "That's not what I meant."

She gave a defeated sigh. "...I know." She strode over to the front door and opened it halfway. "Come with me."

Casey followed in silence as they climbed all the way up to the ninth floor. He noticed that the hallway way finally clear of books. The walls were now lined with clean shelves, upon which most of the books had been neatly organized. His friends did a good job; it looked like they'd worked pretty hard. And he himself did a good of arriving late and avoiding the work altogether. Finally, they reached the last door in the hall, the one adjacent to the exit to the roof.

"Casey," Paige said suddenly. "You've trusted me with so much. It wouldn't be fair of me to keep this from you any longer than I already have…Not even your mother knew about this."

With shaking fingers, Paige opened the door and stepped in, an anxious Casey one step behind her. His eyes widened. He hadn't seen a room like this since his sister was born. Colorful paper was plastered on the walls, along with paintings of cartoon animals. The windows were adorned with warm-colored curtains, which would have filtered any harsh sunlight. In the corner farthest from Casey was a single rocking chair. Beside it was a large basket containing what looked to be children's books. In the other corner stood a small and very empty crib, beside it a sky blue nightstand with a single photograph on it. Casey was beyond confused.

"A nursery?" he asked. "Paige, why would you have a nursery?"

"Why else would anyone have a nursery?" she replied, walking over to the nightstand, she picked up the framed photo and handed it to him.

Casey just stared at it, unable to make out what it was at first. He'd never seen a picture like this before. Except on the internet. And perhaps once in health class. Then it hit him.

It was an ultrasound picture.

Paige let out one shaky breath. "That's my son…Donny."

From the drawers of the nightstand, she produced another picture and showed it to Casey. It was obviously very old, its edges tattered and faded. In the middle of the photo were two scrawny and grinning kids, one a boy with short black hair and the other a girl with slightly longer dark blonde hair. They stood beneath the shade of a large tree, with one wrapped around the other's shoulder. Both wore the smiles that emanated the innocence and utter cheerfulness that only happy children possessed.

Paige sighed. "That is me and my best friend from childhood…William Nayar Bishop."

* * *

**Author's Note: **

Drama bomb!

I had no idea I could write drama but there it is.

*re-reads it* Nah, I still suck.

Oh, Leo. Didn't Master Splinter warn you about running your mouth?

To all my awesome readers, a heartfelt thanks. I appreciate you all sticking with this story this far. I don't like dragging out the boring parts any more than you guys like reading them, but I honestly feel they are vital to the story, so bear with me for now. FYI, the first part of this chapter is actually a reference to a very well-known fic; BubblyShell22, I'm winking at you right now.

To keep everyone's interest alive, I thought I'd do something fun. Like add a quote from a future chapter; make you guys go on a little scavenger hunt. I love being interactive with my readers. So here goes:

_"Hit and run, Karai. Let's go!"_

Till the next chapter!


	15. You've Got A Friend

**Chapter Fifteen: You've Got A Friend**

**A/N:** So so so so so sorry for the long wait. Life kept getting in the way. Brace yourselves. This is gonna be a long one.

* * *

**Kerala, 1973**

Padma: 5, William: 6

The Kalari school was buzzing with people, young and old alike. Most of the younger students were from the local middle-class families, others were walk-ins from the streets. Every now and then, there would join a child from one of the wealthier Anglo-Indian families. One such case would be the young William Nayar Bishop, the town doctor's youngest son. Had the course of his life thus far been up to him, he would be in his home's library instead of here. He was not the fighting sort but his mother insisted. He'd spent the morning sparring practice inwardly cringing at the thought of having to so much as touch anyone. He was not exactly comfortable either, being barefoot and wearing naught but a pair of the traditional red shorts and nothing to cover his back.

Now, it was break time and as usual, William retreated to a quiet and secluded area. Today, he chose the shade beneath a large tree in the front yard. He'd brought with him a new selection from his father's library. He loved books. Being so young, he surprised many with his penchant for reading; his older brother hadn't been able to read so much as the alphabet until he was seven. Now, he'd read his way through his family's library if he could. This particular volume was fascinating, with more words than pictures. He had barely begun the second chapter when someone snatched the book from his hands and dangled above his head. It was one of the older boys, his head cracked in half with a smug grin and two other boys smirking behind him.

"Give it back!" William begged, heaving himself upwards with his tiny arms outstretched. And so proceeded the keep-away ritual that William had resigned himself to. He looked around for help only to find no one else in the yard but the four of them.

Somewhere along the bullying, one of the boys neglected to catch the book and it ended up on the grass. While two of them restrained William, the first boy went to retrieve the book. As he bent down to pick it up, he could have sworn he'd seen it move. Thinking it to be his imagination, he reached down…the book moved again. The boy straightened up in shock, now fully convinced what was happening was not in his head. He took a step back…the book moved towards him. Panicking, he screamed and ran back to the safety of the school.

The two remaining boys were quick to follow as the book, seemingly alive, slowly began to slide towards them on the grass. William, whose face was being pushed into the dirt could not understand why his torments had suddenly leapt off of him, running away and screaming like frightened girls. He sat up, rubbing his sore back. Bouncing proudly toward him, her dark blonde hair swaying with each step, was the only female student in the class. She bore the standard crimson wrap-around shorts of the other students, but instead of being bare-chested she wore a baggy white shirt. In her arms was his precious book.

Smiling widely, she handed it back to him. "I'm Padma," she said.

He hesitated, his head bowed. "My name's William," he mumbled. He gingerly took the book from her, trying his best to avoid touching her hands as he did. He said thank you and returned to the shade of the tree in hopes of spending the rest of recess reading.

Then the girl, Padma, sat in the grass beside him, dashing his hopes. "That's a very good book, so you should take care of it…Why do you let those boys pick on you?"

William slammed the book closed. "I don't!" he whined. "I just can't fight back. That's why my mum brought me here."

The blonde tilted her head. "Can't your daddy help you?"

William shook his head. "No, he doesn't fight. My dad's a doctor."

Padma's eyes twinkled, a huge smile brightening her face. "Wow! My daddy's a doctor too!" She took both of his hands in her own. "We're going to be best friends!"

The boy snatched his hands back, shaking his head. "But we _can't_ be."

"Why not?" she asked, the heartbreak apparent in her voice.

William shrugged. "Because you're a girl."

The girl in question pushed him into the dirt and ran away sobbing.

* * *

**Manchester, 1979**

Padma: 12, William: 13

"Right fine place we've got here," Padma said, setting her luggage down with a loud thud.

Their first trip to Britain, and they were staying indefinitely. They even had their own apartment. Life was good. Although, they could have done without the cold. For the first time in their lives, they had found themselves wrapped in multiple layers of bulky clothing. Padma lingered in the doorway, savoring the moment. It was small and quaint, but nonetheless a beautiful space. William's uncle was kind enough, as well, to give it to them completely furnished. A nudge from William's large suitcase brought her back to her senses and she crossed the threshold. She trotted into the den and ran her small hands over their new furniture.

"Just be careful," William said, laying his own bags on the couch. "My uncle said we could only keep this place if we promised not to destroy it."

Padma bounced in place. "I still can't believe we're doing this!" she squealed excitedly. "Our own Manchester flat! We're like grown-ups!"

William tried his best to contain his own excitement; they didn't need another giddy and hyper child bouncing off the walls. "Go and pick out your room," he suggested and Padma eagerly complied, skipping down the hall and disappearing inside one of the rooms.

She'd obviously made a discover. A wonderful one, at that. "William!" she practically screamed. "We have a library!"

His eyes snapped wide. "Library?" he gasped. "Paddy, don't touch any-"

A loud _CRASH!_ resounded through the apartment, followed by small residual thuds. _Books_, he knew. William squeezed his eyes shut, cringing. He'd been too late. Once all was quiet again, he dared open his eyes.

"Paddy?" he called, concerned.

"…I'm alright!" was the unconvincing answer. "…I think."

William rolled his eyes. "I'll get the iodine."

"Thank you," was the weak reply.

* * *

**Scotland, 1982**

Padma:14, William: 15

William's graduation would have been a dull event had it not been for Padma's arrival. He beamed when he saw her in the audience, her black dress a stark contrast to everyone's pastel-colored attire. Never mind that his flesh and blood family could not be bothered to attend; he had his sister at heart, the family he chose. Although he could have done without her loud and _very_ apparent cheering when the dean called his name. He'd never been quite so proud and mortified at the same time.

"We should be celebrating!" Padma cheered, her voice echoing throughout her best friend's apartment. "Me aunty gave us some Champagne. It's in my trolley." She went over to the guest room to fetch the aforementioned bottle.

William rolled his eyes. "We can't drink, Paddy." He was quick to shrug off his incomparably uncomfortable gown, neatly folding it and setting it onto the couch before sitting down.

Padma emerged from the guest room and scoffed. She'd already begun peeling the foil from the bottle. "Says who? Campus security? What'll they do, kick me out? I'm not a student here! And you've graduated! You're one step closer to being a great doctor." She was struggling with the cork. "Ugh! This _blessed_ thing won't open!"

William snatched the bottle from his eager friend before any damage could be one. "I'll open it. I do _not_ need another black eye. Just go get the glasses."

Padma retreated to the kitchenette to fetch the Champagne flutes. "I said I was sorry," she said, shrugging. The second she sat down beside William, the cork popped off of the bottle with a loud _PLOCK! _William poured his friend a glass before doing the same for himself. Padma clicked her glass to his. "To the future!"

"To the future!" William echoed.

Padma took a generous sip from her glass. "Mmm, this Champagne is delicious," she said before downing the whole glass.

"Careful, now," William warned. "I don't want to have to spend the weekend scraping you off the bathroom floor again."

"Oh, William!" She poured herself another glass. "So tell me about this new job."

He pursed his lips. "Actually, I don't start for another three years."

Padma sat back, making herself comfortable. "Alright."

William cleared his throat. "Well, you know the British Library…"

* * *

**India, 1983**

Padma: 15, William: 16

The funeral was silent in the most uncomfortable sense.

The mourners came and went and the food was as bland as the atmosphere. Padma did her best to be there for the woman who was like her second mother; never mind that the husband whom the former had devoted her life to was a less-than-pleasant person. By the afternoon, Padma had found herself searching for the person she entered the country with. She combed the large upper-middle-class home for much longer than she expected to; he was darn good at hiding. Her whole search was spent rolling her eyes, repulsed at how selfish her friend could be.

She finally found William in the laundry room of his childhood home. He was seated haphazardly on the washing machine, his head bowed in contempt; he didn't look up at her. She felt the anger that had been budding inside her suddenly dissipate the moment she saw his broken expression. With a defeated sigh, she locked the door behind her before walking over to him. She seated herself on an inverted laundry basket in front of him, smoothing out the skirt of her black dress as she did. "I thought I'd find you here. Nothing comforts you quite like the smell of fabric softener."

He let out a cross between a laugh and a grunt. "What would I need comforting for? The old fool is dead and it's probably for the better."

She placed a warm hand on his knee. "You don't mean that," she chastised.

Although thankful for the human contact, William could not summon the energy to respond. All he could voice was contempt. "I can't believe I let you talk me into coming here."

"And I'm glad I did." She took both his hands in her own. "William, it may have been hard for you, but you did the right thing by coming here and paying your respects."

"A year after my graduation and he chooses to die before congratulating me."

"Alright," Padma sighed. "Johann wasn't exactly the best, but he was still _your_ father. And he's gone now, so there's no point in moping about what the two of you never had…At least for your mother, could you go back to the wake?"

He shook his head. "I'm not going back out there," he said firmly.

Padma cocked an eyebrow and sighed. "Fine, but could you at least take me to the car? Your stupid brother's flirting with me again."

William pinched the bridge of his nose. Any mention of his conceited brother was never welcome and bound to ruin his day. "Ugh. Him."

"Yes, him," she said, yanking him forward and forcing him onto his feet. She stood and, out of habit, began tidying up her friend's collar. "Now, let's go out there. You'll spend time with your mother. Try to not kill your brother. And then we say goodbye to everyone. Because the sooner we do, the sooner we can get on the plane. And then we get as much ice cream as we can eat…"

William silently listened to his prattling friend, an appreciative smile blooming on his face. His father was gone, his brother would remain the spoiled leech that he was, his mother would most likely never recover from his father's death, and every single person at the wake was only there to stake a claim on his family's wealth. He was in an orchard with more rotten fruit than fresh. Save for the one in front of him. The one he could always count on. The sibling born from his heart.

Before he knew it, he was grinning. "Come to think of it, it doesn't matter that my dad's dead. I have you to criticize and boss me around now."

Padma just smiled and pointed at the door. "Walk!"

* * *

**New York, 1985**

Padma: 17

The last seat available was at the back, much to Padma's chagrin.

She'd have gotten a better seat had she been earlier. Curse that book sale! Now, she would be lucky to have anything to eat. It was funny, almost, how the mess of books in her lap and arms was once her allowance for the month. Thank goodness for William and his frugal ways-not to mention his self-control-or both of them would go hungry. Setting her burden down, Padma seated herself, smoothed out her black dress, and waited for class to begin. Unable to resist, she pulled out her brand new Dracula pocket edition and submerged herself in it. Her focus on the book effectively drowned out the otherwise bothersome noise from all the other students.

She barely got through the first chapter when she was roused out of her book by a loud bang. Padma looked at the source of her disturbance; a pair of large and muddied biker boots were settled in the space beside her feet. Attached to them was a very disappointed-looking young brunette woman. She wore blue jeans and a leather jacket, black to match her boots. She eyed the professor with a discontented scowl. Trying her best to ignore her new seatmate, Padma went back to her book.

"You gotta be kidding me," she said with her thick Brooklyn accent. "He's not even cute. Hey, uh, Blondie. Is that the prof?"

Padma once again begrudgingly looked up from her fantastic book. She gazed over at the dais at the head of the large auditorium; the professor had arrived, looking like a clumsy and utter mess in his flannel shirt and large glasses. She looked down at the book in her hands and smirked at a clever idea. "No," she said with no small amount of sass. "It's veteran and character actor Christopher Lee."

The brunette turned back to her, an eyebrow raised in surprise; she had not expected that from someone who looked so quiet and detached. That surprise then changed to profound admiration. Her head dipped in a series of slow nods. "I like your attitude." She thrust out a half-gloved hand. "Antonia Nikolaous."

Padma took it and was surprised at the vigorous grip. "Padma Higgins."

Antonia cocked an eyebrow. "You expect me to call you 'Padma'? Sounds like a brand of candles."

The blonde girl was not sure how to respond. "Well, me friends call me 'Paddy'."

Antonia shook her head. "Yeah, it's not workin' for me." She glanced down at the impossibly full book bag beside her seatmate, as well as the stack of obviously-borrowed library books on the desk. "You seem to like books. How 'bout I just call ya Bookworm?"

Padma cocked an eyebrow. "It's like you're _trying_ to make me cry."

"Alright, alright…How 'bout Paige?"

"Definitely not."

"Well, too bad. I'm calling ya Paige."

Padma frowned. "Antonia Nikolaous, you are the loudest, most over-bearing, most impulsive, most obnoxious, most insensitive person I've ever met…" She reached an open palm out the brunette, her smile reaching ear to ear. "We're going to be such great friends!"

* * *

**London, 1987**

Padma:19, William:20

It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon at William and Padma's London flat. The day had passed quietly for the most part, save for the sound of Padma shuffling around due to her rushed work. William had barely noticed as he was hard at work at the desk in their living room. He'd barely slept that week and the stress of the project was beginning to get the better of him; his only solace was the reassuring presence of his best friend, even if she was only there for a few days.

Padma emerged from her room, a black dress swathing her tall form and her her small trolley in tow. She took her favorite beige coat front the rack and hurriedly slipped it on. "Right," she announced, "I'm off to New York."

William looked up from his paper-covered desk, his brow furrowed. "I thought you were on break."

She sighed heavily. "I am, but a certain someone back in the States is graduating from the police academy, and I promised I'd attend."

William rolled his eyes. "Going to see _her_ again?"

The ever-present spite in his tone did not go unnoticed. Padma crossed her arms, scowling. A delay in the Library's book authentications had already caused her to be running late and to not be in the most pleasant of dispositions; she was certainly _not_ in the mood for this. "Is there something you want to say to me?"

William sighed. "I'm sorry…it's just…when we joined the Library, I figured our priorities wouldn't be the same as normal people's."

Padma pursed her lips. Out of all the books in her life, William was definitely the easiest to read. The thought brought a smile to her face. She took slow tentative steps toward him. "Is this about the Library or do just want me to stay home more?"

"No," he answered quickly. He looked back down at his work, avoiding eye contact.

Her smile grew, stretching ear to ear. She placed a hand on his desk, drumming her fingers on the varnished wood. "Are you jealous of Antonia?"

"I will not dignify that with an answer," he spat, still refusing to meet her gaze.

"Oh, William," she cooed. She walked over to where he sat and rested a warm hand on his shoulder. He still did not look up, but did put his pen down. "That is adorable, but completely unnecessary. You know that _no one_ could ever replace you. I promise once the semester's over, I'll stay home more often. And New York is only a few hours on the plane, you know that it wouldn't kill you to visit _me_ once in a while."

William shook his head. "I know, I know," he said.

"Good," she said before leaning down to kiss his forehead.

With one final exchange of smiles and very painful farewell-hug, William showed his friend to the door and she was gone. He could not remember the peaceful silence being quite so malicious.

* * *

**London, 1989**

Padma: 21, William: 22

Sebastian Rorke was a full-time collector and part-time thief.

He was not exactly happy being called to meet with the authenticators in such a filthy place: a secluded construction site at 10 o'clock in the evening, four floors above the ground. Supporting his weight was a rickety temporary floor. _They may as well have asked me to balance myself on the scaffolding_, he thought bitterly. Still, he picked out his favorite custom-tailored blue suit and combed back his wiry grey hair, looking as presentable as he could. He knew the Library would pay a fortune for what he was about to provide them. On the table beside him lay ten hardcover books-the most expensive items in his collection. Of course, they were not the originals; he knew of others who could provide him a larger compensation.

A metallic noise caught his attention. The elevator hummed to life and came to stop at his floor. Emerging from it was a suited and prim-looking young man. He was tall and lean, his black suit complimenting his dark skin. His dark hair was trimmed short and a pair of thin-rimmed rectangular glasses rested atop his sharp eagle nose.

Rorke nodded; this must have been the agent from the British Library. "Mister Bishop," he greeted.

William mimicked the gesture. "Mister Rorke."

Rorke waved a hand over the table beside him. "Please confirm," he said. He stepped back as the agent proceeded with his work. William inspected the books, opening them one by one and running his hands over the covers and pages. "I think you'll find everything in order," Rorke said confidently. "These were not an easy acquisition, let me tell you. Luckily, my sources in Germany were very generous. I'm sure you've heard of Professor Gutfleish? We go way back. You see, back in Cambridge, he was my-"

He was rudely interrupted by the sound of a book slamming full-force into the steel floor. William turned to him, dangling another one of the books in one hand. "These books are fake, Mister Rorke," he said.

Rorke cocked an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

Bishop took a breath. "You told me that all of these books are from before World War 1…But they smell _much_ _too_ new…and they're all made from alkaline paper, which was produced _after_ the War." He set down the book in his hand and slowly shook his head. He clicked his tongue as he did so. "Mister Rorke, the British Library does not take kindly to tricks such as this. I'm sorry, but I must insist that you produce the real books in the next twenty seconds."

"Or what?"

"Or I will receive the orders to make sure you never deceive us again."

Rorke did the only two things he could think of.

Panic.

And draw the machine pistol from his hip.

The quiet of the night was rudely and abruptly ruined by the spraying of bullets against paper and steel. The impact from the shots had shredded the books and reduced the table to a splintered mess. The clip was already half-empty when Rorke stopped shooting, his face wide with utter shock. William Bishop was still standing, his hands resting in his pockets and a bored expression on his face.

Rorke stared in disbelief. "But I shot you," he breathed. "I SHOT YOU!"

The agent just smirked.

Rorke raised the muzzle again, sending another storm of lead at the source of his rage. Once again, the quiet was shattered by the sound of metal slamming against metal. But by the time the magazine was empty, the floor was littered with used shells and William Bishop was still standing. But something stood in front of him. Small squares of white were floating in front of the agent, embedded in each one of them were Rorke's bullets.

Paper.

As quickly as the wall of paper appeared, it collapsed, in its wake stood a newcomer. A tall woman with dark blonde hair now stood beside Bishop, her black dress a stark contrast to her dark gold tresses. Her hand was outstretched towards him, and fell down to her side the same second the paper wall vanished. Rorke narrowed his eyes. When did she get here? Why didn't he hear the elevator? Never mind that, he thought. He had to think of a way out. But those two buffoons were blocking the elevator.

"You're late, Agent Paper," William grumbled. "I had to do the authentication myself."

"I'm so sorry!" she panted. "I was on my way, but the car wouldn't start and-wait. _You_ did the authentication?"

William crossed his arms with a huff. "Yes. It involved some of what I've learned from you, a few calculated guesses, and a lot of luck. Give me some credit, the fool couldn't call my bluff. Now, stop trying to change the subject. Where were you?"

Padma gulped nervously. "Well, like I said the car wouldn't start and you know London traffic-"

"You were book-shopping," William accused.

She hung her head. "I was book-shopping," she confirmed.

"OY!"

Paige and William turned their heads, just in time to spot Rorke's bony finger tighten around the trigger. Just as he did, a wall of white emerged out of nowhere, encasing the two spies. Before any of the bullets could meet home, they found themselves imbedded in more sheets of paper. This magazine went empty faster than the last and Rorke rushed to reload, cursing himself and the world as he did. But before he could even reach for the new magazine, the pistol was knocked clear out of his hands. He was not sure of the object that had been hurled at him, but he did manage to catch a flash of white. The wall of paper collapsed again, revealing the two agents; they did not look pleased.

"Mister Rorke," Padma began, "it is impolite to interrupt a lady when she is speaking. Expected better from one of my own countrymen."

William stepped forward. "We will have to bring you in now, I'm sorry."

Rorke held his hands up. "They're just books," he wailed. "What is wrong with you people? They're just books!"

William shook his head. "Mister Rorke, we owe books everything…Civilization was built on the pages of a book…and so is your incarceration."

Rorke took a step back in disbelief. The floor seemed to shift as he did. As he slipped and fell to his knees, he saw the reason for the sudden strange phenomenon. He was sinking. Or was the floor swallowing him? If it could be called a floor. No, what he stood on was not solid. It was sinking beneath him like cloth. It was white. Soft. And crinkled under his touch.

Paper.

Rorke looked up at the agents to find their faces twisted in tormenting smirks. Finally, the paper floor gave way. Rorke clutched vainly at the white sheets but succumbed to gravity nonetheless. But instead of landing on the harsh concrete, he fell flat on his back into a padded van. Rorke could vaguely make out the suited figures that cuffed him and the world went black as a bag was zipped over his head.

Padma and William watched the scene four floors below them.

"Adequate work, agents!" their supervisor called to them before climbing into the van and leaving. The helicopter followed suit and the two agents were left in the dark of the incomplete building, their only light the multicolored luminescence of the city of London.

William sighed, propping up his glasses with one finger. "That went well," he stated.

Padma nodded. "I'd say so. Get some coffee?"

William shrugged. "May as well. I don't plan on getting any sleep tonight."

Padma frowned. "Going to see Mister Gentleman again?" she asked. "I thought your treatment worked."

"It did," he said almost defensively. "It just remains to be seen if…it continues to work. You know Mister Gentleman, his genetic makeup is…unique." Even after all the time spent with the father of Great Britain William still couldn't find the right words.

Padma placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "You'll find a way, Will. You always do, no matter what."

William smiled. "You joining me?"

"Of course!" She took two steps before remembering a rather important fact. "Oh! Stupid Padma!" She clapped her palm to her forehead. "Stupid Padma!" William looked at her questioningly. "I have a…a date tonight."

William sighed, rolling his eyes. "Well one of us has to be in love. Otherwise, we'll upset the equilibrium of the universe and face the return of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Besides, Heaven forbid you go without a man for longer than a week."

Padma crossed her arms, scowling. "Are you done?"

"Yes, quite so," he said, grinning mischievously. Padma turned to continue down the stairs. "Oh, Paddy?" he called and she turned to face him. "Don't you dare wear that yellow dress. That color wouldn't look good on a _lemon_."

Padma pursed her lips. "When it comes to wardrobe, you just don't know how to hold back, do you?"

* * *

**London, 1990**

Padma: 22, William: 23

"Don't you dare walk away from me, William!" Padma growled as she stomped after her friend, her voice erupting like lightning in their formerly-quiet apartment.

Her evening had been going so well only to be spoiled by her so-called best friend's patronizing tone the second she returned home. She had not even changed out of her uncomfortable black party dress and heels before William, in his pajamas, no less, began his merciless tirade. Not even her own father had talked down to her like that. One accusation had turned into another, the argument devolving into a verbal war. She was almost as worried as she was angry; they hadn't had a fight like this in years.

"I will if I want to!" he spat. "I'm a grown man!" He stormed out of the kitchen in huff, an equally-angry Padma at his heels. He quickly made his way to his bedroom, where he might have some peace from Hurricane Padma.

"A grown man who can't handle not being invited to a party!" she countered, following him into the living room. "One which he explicitly said he didn't want to go to! I'm sorry, were there two women in this flat? Because _one_ of us is getting their delicates in a knot, and it surely isn't me!"

"I honestly don't know why I'm surprised, you've always been indecisive. You still can't decide whether or not to keep the living room rug. Make up your bloody mind!"

Disgusted, Padma stormed into her room and slammed the door behind her. William did the same. However, not five minutes passed before the two cracked open their respective doors, poking their heads into the hall that divided their rooms. Both sported purely dejected frowns.

"Will, I'm sorry," Padma said sincerely.

He shook his head. "No, _I'm_ sorry." He stepped out into the hall and made his way to the living room. Padma was not far behind. "I don't know why this was such a big deal to me. You have Joseph and you want a life. Friends sometimes drift apart. It happens." He stood in the middle of the den, looking to all the world like a lost puppy.

Padma shook her head. "Not to us. _Never_ to us." She looked around for something, anything, to lift these unwelcome grey clouds. Then she saw the piano in their living room. Smiling, she hatched an idea.

"But if it does happen, what am I supposed to do?" William asked desperately.

Her reply was to start playing, her fingers gliding expertly over the keys. "_You just call out my name_," she sang. "_And you know wherever I am, I'll come running to see you again_."

William rolled his eyes. "Take this seriously," he begged.

"_Winter, spring summer and fall_."

"Paddy-"

"_All you've got to do is call_," she sang.

"Seriously, stop," he said unconvincingly.

"_And I'll be there, yes I will_."

"Stop it! Really, what _do_ we have to keep us together?"

"_You've got a friend_."

With a defeated sigh, William hobbled over to the piano and sat down beside Padma. She stopped playing and grasped his hand, fondly stroking it with her thumb. "We have _this_," she said with all the determination in the world. "William, we will always be in each other's lives."

"How can you possibly know that?"

Her reply was to take his head in both hands and turning it to look him in the eyes. "Because I love you…because we're family."

They shared a sad smile before suddenly finding themselves in each other's arm. William savored the contact. He needed this. When they pulled away, he cleared his throat and straightened himself. "You got that last note wrong," he said quickly.

She slapped him halfheartedly on the shoulder. "Leave it to you to point that out."

"Well, how else do you expect to learn?" he asked patronizingly. He cracked his knuckles, straightened his back, and poised his fingers over the keys, determined to show his friend how it was done. He smiled as Padma laid her head on his shoulder. "Shall we, my better half?"

* * *

**British Library, 1992 (Pre-Incident)**

William: 25

Mister Gentleman's office was particularly gloomy that day. Granted, nearly every day passed peacefully in his soundproof and dark room. The Gentleman would spend his days in his large mechanical wheelchair, his bony figure swathed in his billowy robe and his long white beard smoothed out in his lap. Just as a cup of tea was never far away, neither was a good book. His room was more library than office, and always quiet.

Now, he had company. William Bishop was knelt beside his wheelchair, administering his daily injection. The fact that it had become daily irked the young doctor to an immeasurable degree. Once upon a time, he would only administer it once a month. Though, William could not let himself be too surprised. Mister 's physiology was a special case.

"I'm truly sorry, sir," William apologized, drawing the needle from the Gentleman's arm. "I wish I knew why the treatment isn't-"

"It is alright, my boy," the old man wheezed.

William bowed his head, feeling utterly shamed and dejected. "It's very complicated, Mister Gentleman. Truly, I wish I knew-"

The old man held up a bony, shaking hand. "I know, William, I don't claim to be the medical expert."

William stood and began putting his things away. When he was done, he poured the Gentleman another cup of tea. "I'll see you next week, sir. But if you aren't feeling well, please don't hesitate to contact me, no matter what time of the day."

The Gentleman nodded. "Very good."

William was thankful for his understanding; he did not need another cause for stress. The last few years had seen him and Padma in one of the worst falling-outs in their friendship. He had not been there during her wedding or the day she learned she was pregnant. He explained how he had more important things to tend to. Like his country. His duty to the Library. To Mister Gentleman. To the people who truly appreciate his talents. Every day, he found himself despising her a little more. And he hated _that_ muchmore. It seemed like every day of his life was filled with nothing more than work, and hate, and work, and hate. A vicious cycle of loathing and self-loathing.

"Your love for medicine, I hear it comes from your father, yes?" the Gentleman asked suddenly.

William looked up in surprise. "Y-Yes, sir. He was also a doctor."

"Agent Paper," he began, "has she began her maternity leave?"

"Yes, I believe she has, sir," William answered quickly.

"You do not seem pleased. I had thought you were friends."

William did not want to respond. He had to get out of that room before he said something regrettable to the most powerful man in the world. "Yes, sir. We are. Please excuse me. I have _more_ work waiting for me." He nodded and walked briskly over to the door. He felt like he was suffocating.

"You're suffering right now," Mister Gentleman said suddenly, causing William to stop in his tracks. "Even more so than me."

"Sir?"

The old man sipped his tea. "Young man, I have known you since the day you joined the Library. I have watched you grow and develop into one of the finest agents this organization has ever seen…and one of the greatest doctors the world has ever seen. And it may not be my place to say this, but I believe that it is high time that you start putting yourself first. It is obvious…to _everyone_ here that your friendship with Agent Paper has run its course."

William was shocked into silence. How could Mister Gentleman possibly have known that?

The Gentleman continued. "Are you still that compliant little boy who caters to her littlest whims? How much longer will you continue to sacrifice for her…and get nothing in return? Do not destroy yourself…for someone who will only continue to use you."

William shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Sir, none of that matters. Our priority is your preservation." William clapped his hand over his chest. "And I will stop at nothing to ensure it."

The Gentleman cocked one grey eyebrow. "No matter what?" he asked.

William nodded. "No matter what, sir." Without looking back, he closed the door behind him.

No matter what.

* * *

**London, 1992 (Post-Incident)**

Padma:24

She lay on her bed, hugging her favorite blanket for comfort. The pillow beneath her head was soaked through with tears. Her husband Joseph Carpenter sat beside her and listened in melancholic silence, still in his black business suit and his usually-neat blond hair now an uncharacteristic mess on his head. The past few days had seen him as an anxious mess. As much as he hated the idea of leaving England-his home-he had to save his family; so long as the Library was dead, its employees had no protection. A car and jet had already been drafted to smuggle them out of the country.

Padma continued her silent crying. She failed…she failed her best friend. "…I still can't believe he said that to me," she sobbed.

"He's sick, Padma," Joseph assured. "He has been for months now." He tried to quell the anger roiling inside him. Should he ever meet William Bishop, then one of them would be walking away with fewer teeth. He smoothed the dark gold tresses of his beloved's hair. He bent down and placed a feather-light kiss on her brow. "Just try to get some sleep," he soothed. "I have to get our stuff packed. The car will be here in twenty minutes."

Before exiting, he turned down the lights, leaving Padma and her tears in the dark. But the moment he left their bedroom, he felt a feather-like touch by the nape of his neck; he assumed it was a fly and brushed it off. Not a moment later, he felt like he couldn't breathe. No, it wasn't a feeling. He could not breathe. He clutched at his throat but felt nothing there. It was as if his body simply could not register _breathe_. Red and moisture clouded his vision as an indescribable pressure constricted his face. He was aware of himself falling to the floor, a dark grinning figure looming over him. And then he understood.

"…You…" he mouthed weakly. And then Joseph Carpenter's world went black.

Padma didn't know just how long she'd managed to sleep, or where her husband was, but she did know the smell that awoke her.

Smoke.

She bolted out of bed, keeping a protective hand over the bulge on her belly. "Joseph?" she called frantically. She opened the door to their bedroom and was immediately assaulted by merciless heat and light. Smoke hazed the hallways, disrupting the visibility. "Joseph!" she sputtered. "Joseph!"

Still no reply. She could not wait, she was getting herself and her son out of there. Turning back to her bedroom, she sprinted towards the window; she was three floors up but she could make something from paper to catch herself on. But the second she had her hands on the sill, a wall of flame shot up from the outside. She cursed. Had they set the outside of the building on fire as well? She had no choice then. The only fire escape left was in the den.

Stepping out into the hall, Padma braved the suffocating miasma. She tread as quickly but as carefully as the situation allowed; she was not sure what part of the floor was still sturdy and what was not. Again, she called out for her husband, and again there was no reply. After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the living room. Small bushes of flame were littered everywhere, engulfing every cherished item in her home and creating toxic clouds as they did. She spotted the window and made for it. But something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

A black-suited figure sat in her husband's arm chair, staring at her and flashing a bone-chilling grimace. Its hands were folded neatly in its lap as it sat in a relaxed pose, mimicking an audience member patiently waiting for the show's climax. Padma's eyes went wide. She shuddered; she knew that smile, but the air it now possessed was malicious instead of affectionate.

"William?" she gasped.

And that was all she managed to say before the ceiling caved in.

* * *

**Brooklyn, Present Day**

"The official reports said that William Bishop died in the fire…"

Casey listened in quietly-shocked silence. This didn't seem real to him. He was never comfortable talking about such serious matters. As much as he hated listening to this, he knew that he had to. During Paige's story, he'd somehow found his way into the rocking chair, his fingers fiddling with the embroidered pillow that had been previously there. Paige was in front of him, leaning haphazardly against the crib and gazing out the window beside her.

"Only I made it out of the house." She dipped her head, her eyes dimming further. "…And later on, only I made it out of the hospital."

Casey looked up, his eyes widening. "So…you're baby's…?"

Paige did not look at him but did stand and walk over to the window. She gazed out into the busy Williamsburg streets. Her eyes were glazed over with an emotion that Casey knew he could never hope to understand. "I won't bore you with the details of my recovery," she began, crossing her arms for warmth, "but I can say in all honesty that it was not pleasant…either mentally or physically."

The boy had somehow found his voice. As well as something to say. "Paige, I'm…I'm sorry you had to be alone in all of that."

At this, she did finally look at him. "Oh, I wasn't alone…Your mother was there when I woke up…and quite frankly…that was the first time I'd ever seen her cry…You know, I wanted so badly to just shut everything out…be numb to it all…but your mum wouldn't let me. She wouldn't let me wallow in my misery, not when she had so much happiness to go around…Especially a year later, when she became pregnant with you." She finally started to smile, a warmth emerging in her eyes. "She practically forced me to move to New York, begged me to be your nanny…to be your godmother."

Casey cocked his head. "Why am I only hearing about this now?"

Paige chuckled and shrugged."You never asked…I owe a great deal to your mother…She _saved_ me. After that, I had a new life. A new family. A new name." She offered her hand and Casey took it, letting her help him out of the rocking chair. She then clasped her hands behind her back, now smiling in earnest. "I'm glad I showed this to you. Maybe you finding this room and finally talking about was the last bit of closure I needed." Her gaze wandered the room. "I think I'm finally ready to let go."

"You don't need to rush," he assured.

"Oh, I know, Casey, I've had almost twenty years to get over everything…I can't keep taking this room with me wherever I go."

Casey braced his hand on his hips, looking around the entirety of the room. "So…what'll you turn it into?"

Paige looked around. The second she moved into the building, this was the first thing on her plans. She recalled the various thing she had carried up to this room. She smiled and went over to the closet. "Do you remember how your mum forced me into teaching you the piano?"

Casey smirked. "Yeah, I remember her locking you in a room and threatening to burn all your books." His face twisted at a sudden realization. "Man, my mom was _crazy_."

"Yes," Paige confirmed, laughing in agreement, "your father clearly told me that he needed me for the thirty percent of her that he couldn't handle." Opening the wooden doors, Paige revealed a small electric keyboard. With deft fingers, she assembled the instrument beside the rocking chair. She pulled up a small leather bench from the corner of the room and seated herself. "Well, I'd always dreamt of playing music to my son…so…I might just turn this into a music room." She patted the empty space next to her and Casey obliged, seating himself as comfortably as he could on the small leather bench. "Play me a song, Casey."

He looked at her as though she'd just asked him to commit a murder. "I'm really rusty," he warned.

Paige smiled and shook her head. "I don't care."

Hesitantly, Casey ran his hands over the keys, trying to summon whatever body memories he could. Paige, obviously growing impatient and telling him he we was killing the mood, elbowed him. And that was the only go signal that Casey needed. And he knew just the song, too. The beginning was very hazy and more of a practice run but eventually gained the fragments of a proper melody. Paige listened in peaceful contentedness. Try as she might not to, she couldn't help but remember the relaxing afternoons spent listening to William at the piano.

_No_, she scolded internally. _William is dead…He has been for a long time…A monster wears his skin now._

She had Casey and his family and that was more than enough. Before she knew it, the memories of her former friend were replaced with the happy imagery of her at the piano, a young Casey Jones in her lap as she struggled to teach him the instrument. The two of them had a song of their own now as well. The very song that Casey was playing at the moment.

_Tears In Heaven._

And like she did so many times with her old friend William, Paige rested her head on Casey's shoulder as the soothing melody of the piano washed over her. She closed her eyes and allowed herself the selfish time to imagine the scene slightly differently, with a teenaged Donny beside her.

Had Paige been paying attention, she would have noticed the deepening scowl on Casey's face.

* * *

**Author's Notes and References:**

So, yeah. This is the chapter that revolved more around the Read Or Die franchise. But don't worry. This will be the only one. The rest of the story will stick to Turtle Territory;) I tried not to go too much into detail on Paige's recovery since I don't claim to be an expert on that stuff. But thanks to TheIncredibleDancingBetty (you're a peach, mwah!), who told me to focus more on the emotional side of her story. Speaking of stories, I can finally say that this fic is officially half-over. It has been quite the journey and I am so glad to have taken it with you. I love you all, I mean it.

Despite the sad note on which this chapter ended, I have to point out my favorite part: the mission scene (which was actually inspired by a scene from the Read Or Die manga). How funny were the two of them arguing like siblings when they had a gun pointed at their heads? LOL, and Bishop trying to bullsh*t his way through a book authentication and bluffing his way out of getting a cap popped in his skull. Brother is slick!

The title is a reference to the song Paige is singing in the flashback. It's called You've Got A Friend. The song I wanted to use for their piano scene was originally going to be Love Will Keep Us Together, but this one seemed equally as powerful. Big surprise, Mr. Gentleman was the _real_ bad guy the whole time. Huh. Go figure. But, seriously, to give everyone the bigger picture here, Mr. Gentleman's treachery runs deeper than you can imagine. He is to the Library what Professor X is to the X Men. And Bishop having daddy issues? Oh yeah, he does.

*Joseph Carpenter - I based Paige's husband on a canon character from the Read Or Die franchise. Codenamed "Joker/Mister Joker", Joseph Carpenter is the head of the British Library Special Operations Unit, second in command only to Mister Gentleman.

Thanks, all you lovelies who've stuck with me thus far. You all get cookies!

And, of course, a special mega ultra thank you to my fabulous and supergalifragesexy beta read Illusionna! You are a peach!

Today's teaser:

_"You done screaming like a little girl?"_


	16. Like That Guy On The Horse

**Chapter Sixteen: Like That Guy On The Horse **

Afternoon in the Sewer Lair found Leonardo sitting alone in the den, slumped in his seat with his gaze cast downwards at his feet. Morning training had been a nightmare, with him getting his shell handed to him by every last one of his siblings. He'd been in a salty mood all day and not even his favorite tv series seemed to lift his spirits. He squeezed his eyes shut as Raph stepped into the sunken den to sit on the couch beside him.

"Afternoon, Fearless," said Raph

Leo rolled his eyes. "You're here to rub it in some more, Raph?"

The red-banded turtle shrugged, "Well, I was just gonna watch TV...but I guess the only source of drama and cheap entertainment I need is right in front of me, huh, Leo?"

"You done?"

"You made a girl cry, Leo!" was his snappy comeback.

"I get it, Raph," Leo snapped. "Don't you think I regret it?" Sighing, he sunk deeper into his seat, his expression exhausted. "You don't know what it's like, Raph."

Raph furrowed his brow. "What?"

"I'm the leader," he replied seriously. "It falls on me to protect you guys and I gotta put it above all else…sometimes even above what I think is right. Or my own safety…I mean, you know that better than anyone else, right?"

Raph nodded. An unsavory memory resurfaced and he had to fight the urge to cringe. "Yeah. And _you_ know that if you ever pull a stunt like back at the Technodrome again, I'll beat you like a piñata and won't stop even after all the prizes fall out."

Leo laughed. "Yeah, I know." His face fell as he remembered another thing on his To Do list. "I just wish I had a chance to apologize to her." An annoying jingle rang through the den, originating from Leo's utility belt. He picked up his T-phone and answered. "Hello?"

"...Leonardo?"

"Paige?" he stammered.

Raph's eyes widened and he'd just about spilled his soda. He looked around for another heavenly sign. "Maybe I should wish for a new drum set," he said to no in particular.

"W-What's up?" Leo continued.

"…It's Casey, he's gone missing." He could hear the anxiousness in her tone.

His brow furrowed. "Missing?" he echoed, developing his own anxiousness.

"I'm talking to you through his phone right now. He left it at my apartment, and neither his father nor sister have seen him all day. I was hoping he was with you or your family."

Leo shook his head. "He isn't."

"…I've got a bad feeling about this, Leonardo."

"Why?" Leo asked, kicking into full leader-mode. "What happened?"

The other line was quiet for a long time, and Leo could hear the racing of his heart. Then, "I'm afraid I've done something very stupid that's caused him to behave this way."

Leo straightened, his eyes hardening in determination. "Don't worry, Paige," he assured. "We'll help you find him."

"No," she said firmly. "You will not. _I'll_ look for Casey. You stay at home with your family."

"Yeah, that's not an option, Paige…Casey's family too. If he's in trouble, we're doing something about it." There was a sense of finality in his tone, the same one he used on his brothers during missions.

The other line went quiet again and Leo thought he'd offended her for a second time. He took a breath when he finally heard her voice. "…Leonardo?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

Leo hung his head. "No," he sighed. "I'm sorry, Paige. I should've left it alone."

From the way she spoke, Leo thought he could _hear_ Paige smile. "Leonardo, you were forgiven _years ago_." The turtle breathed a sigh of relief. "You know one thing I've noticed about you and your brothers?"

"What?"

"You forget that you're all still children."

Leo quieted, allowing the words to sink in. Of all the things Paige could have observed from them, it had to be that. He felt a pang of defensiveness rise in his throat but swallowed it when her remembered what happened the last time he let his pride come first. He said nothing, waiting for Paige to continue.

And continue she did. "There will be times when you needn't shoulder everything, Leonardo. There _will_ be times when you can rely on the adults. Can you try to remember that? For me?"

Leo squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, realizing she was right. "Ok, Paige. I will."

"Thank you, dear," Paige said warmly. "Now, has anyone else seen him?"

Karai walked into the den, a muffin in one hand and a magazine in the other. Leo cocked his head in her direction as she sat down on the opposite couch. "Karai, have you seen Casey lately?"

"Nope," she admitted before biting into the muffin. She caught a glimpse of her youngest brother in her peripherals; he was off in the kitchen, his face buried in his T-Phone and playing a game. "Mikey might have," she suggested.

"Hey," the youngest turtle declared, "whatever I have, I put it back."

Karai blinked slowly. "Idiot," she commented before opening her magazine.

Leo rolled his eyes at his brother before tossing the phone to him. "Catch!"

Without ever looking away from his game, Mikey expertly caught the phone thrown to him. He clipped the phone between his head and shoulder. "Yo, Paige," Mikey began, not looking up from his game. "…No, sorry, haven't seen him...Yeah, I can ask Donnie..."

"You have absolutely no idea what he might be doing now?" Paige prodded.

Mikey stuck out his tongue in thought. "Well," he began, "its nearly dark, so he could be out lookin' for some butts to kick, or whatever vigilantes do in their spare time."

"What?" Paige asked tersely.

Raph spun round in his seat at the mention of the v-word, his eyes wide in panic. _That idiot!_ he shouted in his head.

"Yeah," Mikey continued. "You know, his whole Lonely Hero, Protector of the Night thing."

Raph looked around frantically for anything he could use to defuse the situation. The nearest thing was the half-eaten muffin in Karai's hand. Before the kunoichi could take another bite, Raphael snatched the muffin from her and threw it at the phone in Mikey's hand. The device sailed through the air and landed spinning on the sunken floor of the den. Immediately, Raphael scrambled toward it.

After tripping a few times, Raphael managed to grab hold of the phone, but did so flat on his belly. He pressed the phone to his ear. "Paige?" Raph asked, out of breath.

"Good bye, Raphael," she said coldly before hanging up.

Raph looked down at the phone in his hand. "Oh boy."

"What's up?" Leo asked, now fully intent.

Karai was still looking at her now-empty hand, plotting all the things she would do to Raph once this was all over. That had been the last blueberry muffin..

"We gotta find Casey," Raph said hurriedly. "Tell him the British are coming!"

* * *

Casey Jones had designated himself a job: protect this city. He'd designated himself a duty: protect his friends and family. He knew his destiny: to save this world. And if doing so meant finding and stopping William Bishop alone, he would happily do it.

He didn't bother waiting for Paige to wake up before leaving the apartment; he'd already made up his mind and the last thing he needed was someone trying to talk him out of it. He didn't bother with school either that day; some things were more important than figuring out the difference between prophase and metaphase or whatever they called it. His day had been spent planning, organizing his weapons, and working out.

Now it was evening, and it was time to take action. He sailed over the rooftops of the city he vowed to protect. The wheels of his skates seemed to roar beneath his feet as they drove him to his destination. The sound was fuel for his determination. Finally, the buildings dissolved into ragged and rusty fences, the streetlights gave way to a few dilapidated light fixtures, and the roads and cars turned into salt water and giant container vans. He'd finally arrived, under cover of night, at the docks.

He didn't know how long he'd waited there, or where to even begin his search, but simply being there gave him a sense of accomplishment, of purpose. While keeping himself hidden amongst the crates and container vans, she stood tall and proud, like a lion stalking its prey. Eventually, he decided on his hiding place: behind one particularly large container van that overlooked the harbor and beyond it, the Atlantic.

Barely an hour had passed before he felt someone approach. He drew his hockey stick, his hand tightening around it and shaking from the exertion. _Finally_, he thought as he spun round to defend himself. But instead of an enemy's blow, he blocked a pair of sai.

His eyes went wide. "Raph?"

The red-banded turtle holstered his weapons as Casey did the same. "You expecting Santa?" he spat. "Well, you're a few months too early. We've been looking all over for you. What are you even doing here?"

Casey considered turning away; he didn't need to explain himself. But for reasons he did not understand, he answered, "I'm getting ready to take down that scumbag, Bishop."

Raphael blinked once and then twice, and then his expression relaxed. "Ah well, I guess that explains it." He slapped the back of his friend's head, hoping to slap some sense into it at the same time. "Are you outta your teenage mind?!"

The boy propped up his mask so as to speak clearly. "This doesn't concern you, Raph!" he grunted, rubbing his head.

The turtle cocked his head. "Oh, but it concerns _you_?"

"You don't know what you're talkin' about, Raph!"

Raph stepped forward, deciding to be the level-headed one. He looked his friend in the eyes. "Then _let_ me know," he said seriously.

Casey considered. Paige would kill him for sharing something so personal with Raph, but sometimes a vigilante's gotta do what a vigilante's gotta do. Neither friend knew how much time had passed after Casey began his re-telling of Paige's story, but it ended with both Casey and Raph feeling emotionally exhausted. "...and that's why I'm here," Casey finished.

Raph sighed and sat down heavily on a crate. Everything made sense then; the room, the secrets, the feelings that Paige had been hiding something. Apart from the utter sympathy, Raph also felt empathy; this story was close to home for him. "Casey," he began seriously, "believe me, I know what you're going through. I know what you want to do for Paige…" His friend shared with him, he felt that he would be amiss not to do the same. "When Splinter first told me about what the Shredder did to his family back in Japan, I wanted to knock some heads, too. Heck, I wanted to do _more_ than that! I was angry for a really _really_ long time."

The teenage boy stood from the crate he'd been sitting on. "Then you know why I gotta do this," he breathed.

Raph nodded in agreement. "Yes, but this isn't the way to do it. We gotta strategize. My brothers and I are after Bishop anyways, we can figure out a plan. You're not alone in this. Most of all, we gotta stick together. "

Casey scoffed. "You guys are just gonna slow me down!" he spat.

Raph raised an eyebrow. "How are you gonna go after Bishop? You don't even know where to start!"

"I know he's been here," Casey defended. "These scumbags always meet at the docs for whatever gob-forsaken reason."

Raph rolled his eyes. He stood up to stand in front of his friend. "You can't possibly believe that that's enough to go on."

"Yeah," agreed a voice, making Casey flinch. The teenager spun round to be face-to-face with Donnie and Mikey. Each turtle was standing on their own wooden crate. "I applaud your logic," Donnie said sarcastically.

"Yeah," Mikey agreed. "Feels awesome not to be the dumb one for once."

"What the heck are all of you doing here?" Casey snapped.

"Stoping you from doing something stupid," said a familiar leaderly voice. Casey spun round, rolling his eyes. Leo now stood beside Raph, and Casey had to remind himself that his friends were, in fact, a family of ninjas. "We need a plan, Casey."

Karai nodded in agreement. "You're coming home," she said plainly. "Deal with it."

Casey shook his head. "You guys don't know what you're doing." He stomped towards the entrance of the dock, his friends stalking after him. "If you guys aren't gonna help me," he pointed one gloved hand towards the city's skyline, "go back home!"

Karai cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, not gonna happen."

"Really, Karai?" he scoffed. "You of all people, you're gonna try and stop me? I know you wanna go after Shredder-"

"Yeah, but I'm not stupid enough to do it alone," she spat.

"Oh, now I'm stupid."

Karai crossed her arms over her chest and her brothers watched in stunned silence as their little verbal sparring match continued. "Well, you sure as heck ain't smart!"

"Hey!" Casey snapped, "not in front of the T. U. R. T. T. E. L. S."

Karai pursed her lips. "You never could spell to save your life," she said indignantly. "You can't be bothered to put the cap back on the toothpaste either, and how many time do I have to tell you to roll the tube! Don't squeeze it in the middle! What, were you raised in a barn?"

Casey sighed. "Woman, get off my back!" He turned and made for the edge of the docks.

Karai glared daggers at him. "Don't you walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"

Their argument was thankfully cut short by a blinding beam of light. It was coming from the open gate, accompanying it was the familiar sound of a motor vehicle.

Headlights.

Casey kept his forearm over his eyes, his hockey stick at the ready in his other hand. He tried his hardest to squint passed the light but was only rewarded with burning eyes. "Is it Bishop? The Shredder?"

The Hamato children could see no better, but kept their weapons handy. "I don't know," Leo admitted. Squinting, he drew both katanas from his back.

They heard the telltale sound of a vehicle coming closer to them. Then they heard the engine die and the lights go off, facilitating their vision.

Karai was the first to see the newcomer. As she did, she felt the blood drain from her face. "Guys, it's worse," she breathed. "It's the Nanny."

From the driver's side of the vehicle emerged a very, _very_ angry Paige Higgins. She slammed the door closed, the sound echoing throughout the whole area. Glaring daggers at each and every one of them, she spoke through clenched teeth, "What. Do. You. Think. You're. Doing?"

Mikey blinked. "We're in trouble."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Dun dun dun! The title is a reference to Paul Revere. You know? The guy who was famous for yelling "The British are coming!".

Thumbs up to Mikey for the understatement of the year!

Mega-ultra thanks to my beta-reader and Soul Mama, the wonderful and supercalifragesexy Illusionna. I 3 U, gurl.

Today's teaser:

_"Get movin', old man!"_


End file.
